


A Second Chance

by photogiraffe77



Series: 'A Second Chance' - Main & Side Stories [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A little angst, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Iwaoi, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Office Shenanigans, Romance, Single dad Daichi, Tobio is the cutest I swear, businessman Daichi, kid tobio, nurse Sugawara, school shenanigans, set in the US, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 180,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photogiraffe77/pseuds/photogiraffe77
Summary: Hot was an understatement. Nurse Sugawara, or ‘Nurse Suga ’, as his son so insistently called him, was a literal manifestation of heaven on earth. Daichi would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought at all about the man's gorgeous ash-blond hair and his warm, honey eyes, like firelight on a winter evening, or even about the beautiful, perfect little beauty mark that graced the corner of his face; a blemish that boasted perfection.No, Sugawara wasn’t 'hot'. He was ethereal, otherworldly, angelic, with a laugh that could withstand the test of time and drown out even the worst of sorrows.///Daichi moves halfway across the country with his 6-year-old son, Tobio, in an attempt to leave behind a difficult past. But what they find instead is a school nurse/angel-on-earth who gives them something they never thought they'd find anywhere: a second chance.(tooth-rotting fluff, kid Tobio, spicy language, lots of laughs, and a back story I promise will leave your heart wrenched)(PS please read because writing is the only thing giving my borderline alcoholism any credibility )** NOW WITH FAN ART! **
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: 'A Second Chance' - Main & Side Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942333
Comments: 1610
Kudos: 1489
Collections: my favorite hq fanfics pls





	1. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how this conversation went in my head:
> 
> Me: Autumn, you shouldn't start a new fic until you've finished 'A Man of Substance'.  
> Me: *silence*  
> Me: Don't give me that attitude.  
> Me: *picks up laptop and types first chapter in four hours*  
> Me: What the f--
> 
> DaiSuga is my OTP. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Suga filtered through the files on his desk, the piping hot mug of coffee that boasted ‘World’s Best Nurse’ on the front resting just a few inches away from his right hand. It was filled to the brim with cream and sugar and enough strong coffee to wake even the dead - just the way he liked it. He let out a short huff before running his nimble fingers through his ash-blonde hair. This school year was already starting off a doozy.

A short knock fell on the door of his office, but the intruder didn’t wait for a welcome or response - he never had, not once in the last 15 years.

Suga lifted his honey brown eyes to meet his best friend’s hazel ones as he peered around the heavy door, a shit eating grin already plastered on his much-too-handsome, much-too-smug, face. 

He suddenly wished he had drunk more of his coffee.

“Suga-chan!” came the breathy exclamation, all bright eyes and bushy tails or whatever it was he tells the kids every day as they filter in the front door of the school, half-awake and grumbling. 

Suga returned his gaze to the papers spread out on his desk - the first day of school and this was already how his filing was going? Great. “Good morning, Tooru.” Suga’s response was much less enthusiastic.

“Aww, Suga-chan!” came the half-hearted whine as Suga’s best friend entered his office, letting the door close casually behind him. “That’s not how you’re supposed to greet me now!”

Suga rolled his eyes. “I’m not calling you that. Not ever.”

The brunette huffed and folded his arms across his chest. “Yes,” he insisted.

“ _No_ ,” Suga countered, waving a dismissive hand in front of his scrunched face. “Absolutely not.”

Tooru leaned forward, placing his palms flat on his best friend’s solid oak desk, long, elegant fingers spread apart to cover the ever-so-important files that Suga couldn’t take his eyes off of. “Just one time, Suga-chan.” The ridiculous pout sticking out from his bottom lip caused the blonde to laugh a small chuckle of defeat.

“Fine, God, you’re such a brat!” Suga stated, crinkling his nose again.

“Who’s a brat?” His best friend’s perfectly manicured eyebrows were halfway up his forehead now, a stupid, anticipatory glint in his eye. Fifteen years and he just wanted to smack the glint out of him.

“You are, _Principal Iwaizumi._ ”

A squeal of delight filled the small office, echoing off of the white plaster walls. Tooru stood up to full height and clapped his hands across his slender chest. “Oh my God, that’s _me!_ ” he exclaimed happily, broad smile splitting his face in two.

“I’m aware,” Suga grumbled with feigned contempt - he was actually really happy for his best friend.

“Oh my God, give me a break! We’ve only been married for a month!”

As if Suga could forget being the man of honor in the world’s hottest July wedding _ever_. “I was there, Tooru,” Suga grumbled yet again, flipping through the last few charts. The first official day of the school year was starting in just 45 minutes and that meant the first rounds of vision and hearing screenings would be starting next week and he needed to be prepared.

“I know, I know, it’s just hard to believe sometimes…” The brunette muttered the sentence so earnestly, it clenched Suga’s heart a little. It was a rare moment of unabashed sincerity from his best friend, a side of himself he reserved for only those he really loved and trusted.

“I’m happy for you,” Suga reiterated.

“Do you think he’ll send me flowers? For my first day as Principal?”

Suga rolled his eyes yet again. “Yes, I’m sure your beloved husband will send you flowers for your first day as principal.”

“He made me breakfast in bed,” Tooru shared as he perched himself on the edge of the desk. He had dressed the part for his first day- trim navy dress slacks, a light gray, collared button-down, and a thin, navy pinstripe tie. He was wearing his glasses (it made him look more respectable, he shared, not just a 29-year-old punk with a freshly printed Master’s degree). They did look good on him, black, square-rimmed with just a fleck of silver along the sides.

Suga rolled back in his chair, eyeing the brunette. “Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes with strawberries and homemade whipped cream?”

“Oh Lord, _yes_ ,” the taller man practically moaned, smoothing his tie over his chest and closing his eyes at the memory. “God, and then what he did afterward with whipped cream --”

“Ugh, please don’t elaborate,” Suga sneered, holding up his hands. “Please, for the love of all things good and holy, do not share a sex story in my office at 7:15 a.m.”

That didn’t stop the principal. “ -- oh, I mean, and then he licked the syrup off of my fingers, I kid you not--”

“Who let you be an educator?” the nurse huffed, interrupting once again. He could not stomach the thought of those graphic images in his head - he walked in on them enough in college to not have to use his imagination. Seriously, who fucks on the kitchen table at 2 in the afternoon on a Wednesday? Hajime and Tooru, that’s who.

At that comment, Tooru pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “The same institution that gave you a nursing degree, Suga-chan.” 

It was true - Oikawa-- err, Iwaizumi 2.0 -- no, that wasn’t right, Suga thought. The original Iwaizumi was clearly the better end of the deal. Still, he and Tooru had been best friends since they were 14 and followed each other to college where they graduated together, roommates the whole time. They even stuck together after college by getting hired at the same school - Suga, the nurse, and Tooru, the spunky 5th-grade teacher. But this year was different - with the completion of his Master’s in Elementary Education Administration, Tooru finally got the recognition he deserved - a promotion to principal. 

“Okay, fair enough. But seriously, stop reminding me how painfully single I am.”

Tooru laughed, the sound a soft, lilting song. “You know, the new P.E. teacher is gay.”

“Eww. Pass. I’d rather stay on my three-year celibacy streak.” Suga made a gagging gesture with his hand. “Also, I shouldn’t have to explain this to you, of all people, but need I remind you that not every gay man is interested in every other gay man?”

Tooru sighed, but it's almost longing sound caused Suga to know what was next. “God, if that were true, we could have just married each other.”

“Hard pass.”

“We did make out that one time.”

“I blame Captain Morgan.”

“Iwa-chan would give me a hall pass if you wanted to break your streak.” The wink he gave with that suggestion caused Suga’s stomach to churn.

“There is not enough Captain Morgan on this planet.”

Tooru snorted and patted his perfectly coiffed hair. “Whatever. Are you going to come to my opening address?” he asked, leaning forward to fix the stray cowlick on Suga’s head - it was a pointless endeavor, they both knew it, but it was a tender display of affection that his best friend could never shy away from.

The shorter man didn’t bother to bat the hand away, instead, he reached over and took a short sip of his coffee. _God, this could use some liquor in it_ , he thought wistfully. “No, I’m not coming to the _morning assembly_ , Winston Churchill.”

“But I practiced my speech and everything!” Tooru pouted once more, not even bothering to mask the sharp whine in his voice. 

“You don’t need me out there. You’re greeting 500 kids under the age of 11. Trust me, just keep it really short and they’ll think it’s the coolest thing ever.” Tooru looked like he was about to speak again when Suga shot a quick glance upward, adding, “and for the love of God, don’t do the floss.”

“Kids _love_ TikTok, Suga-chan!” Tooru countered, almost looking offended for real this time.

“You’re not making school cooler, you’re just making TikTok worse.” That comment earned him a swift punch in the shoulder, Suga barely grimacing on impact. Tooru’s love taps had nothing on Suga’s karate chops of positivity.

“What are you working on so intently, anyway?” Tooru asked, moving on.

“You’re the principal, shouldn’t you know?” Suga teased, sticking out his tongue.

“Oh my God, that’s why I’m asking! You are so annoying!”

“Files,” Suga answered flatly, this time rolling his chair back to the tall black filing cabinet behind him, gesturing toward it like a random model pointing to a showcase on the ‘Price is Right’. “You’ve got 500 kids to give a state of the union to and then I’ve gotta turn around and give them all hearing and vision tests. Lucky me. Plus, there’s always that one parent who waits until the last second to enroll their kid so I have prepared extra files just in case.”

“You really earned that mug.”

Suga blinked down at it and smiled. “Fuck you,” but there’s no actual bite to his words.

With that, Tooru rose from his perch and adjusted his dress shirt. “How do I look?”

“Like the world’s gayest, hottest principal,” Suga smirks.

“Are you having second thoughts about my offer?” He made his hazel eyes go wide, like a kid staring at the world’s largest ice cream cone.

“Jesus, go give your speech.” Suga smiled and flipped a middle finger in the air.

“Suga-chan, we’re at _school_ ,” he huffed, flashing a mischievous grin. Once the door finally shut behind the brunette, Suga leaned down and rested his head on the flat surface of his desk.

This was going to be an interesting school year.

\--------------

“Do you have your backpack?”

The raven-haired six-year-old turned around with a little hop, showing off the bag hanging from his shoulders - it was red and blue with a holographic image of Spider-Man on the front.

“Did we put your name on all of your school supplies?” 

The little boy groaned, bringing his hand to his head, clearly already fed up with his father’s questions. “Yes, dad.”

“Lunch?”

“Yes, dad.”

Daichi sighed, looking his son up and down. He was dressed in light-colored jeans and a plain green Nike t-shirt with matching sneakers. Was this okay for the first day of school? Were the other parents dressing their kids up? He hummed, uncertain. He didn’t want Tobio to stand out or draw too much attention - the little boy didn’t do too well with extra attention. He preferred to stick to himself.

“Did you kiss your mom?”

Tobio froze for a second, then turned around and hurried back down the hallway.

Daichi ran a hand through his short-cropped hair before adjusting his black tie. Here it was - the first day of school for Tobio and the first day of his new job. He took a deep breath - in through his nose and out through his mouth. This was the fresh start, halfway across the country, that his therapist said he needed. It would be okay.

A moment later, Tobio reappeared, hands curled anxiously around the straps of his backpack. “Can we please go now, daddy?”

“Sure, buddy,” Daichi smiled, leaning down to give his son a soft kiss on the top of his head before turning around and grabbing his car keys and travel coffee cup. 

They stepped outside - it was a muggy, humid August morning. Daichi had assumed wrong when he thought there was no way in hell the Midwest could be as hot as San Fransico - yes, he was dead ass wrong. He opened the door of their black Honda Civic, letting Tobio crawl into the backseat, buckling himself in. Daichi made his way to the front, started the engine, then backed out of the drive.

“Are you excited for your first day, buddy?” the father asked after a few minutes of silence, glancing up to see his son staring out the window from the back seat. 

“You already asked me that like a hundred times.” Daichi didn’t miss the scowl on his face.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure.” His son’s response pulled at his heartstrings a little. “You know, bud, you don’t have to say a lot today if you don’t want to.”

A small sigh proceeded a soft, “I know.”

Daichi tried to give him a reassuring smile, but the little boy’s eyes were still fixed out the window. Daichi returned his to the road. “Just make sure you talk to your teacher, okay? If she like, asks you a question or something? But you don’t have to talk a whole bunch if you don’t want, just make sure to be polite.”

A response didn’t follow this time, though Daichi expected that. The rest of the commute to the school was silent, just the low radio chatter coming over the stereo system. Upon arrival, Daichi pulled into a parking stall.

“Are you coming in daddy?” Tobio asked, raising his eyebrow.

Daichi laughed, opening his door, but not yet stepping out. “Well yeah, bud. It’s your first day. Daddy walks you to your class on the first day.”

Tobio frowned, but then looked a bit relieved. “‘Kay,” he replied a bit sheepishly before climbing out of the backseat. Standing there in the parking lot, Daichi extended his hand to his son, who reached out and wrapped his small hand around his dad’s pinky - something he had done since he was a baby.

The pair made their way inside - the school was flooded with students and parents, a constant hustle and bustle of shoes and chatter and laughter. All of the noise just made Tobio cling to his dad tighter. Daichi’s heart swelled at the gesture.

As they approached the office, things seemed quieter, like stepping into a different world. The main door shut heavily behind them.

“Can I help you?” greeted the secretary, her graying red hair pulled up in a severe bun on her head.

“Uh, yeah hello. I’m Daichi Sawamura and this is my son Tobio. I faxed in his enrollment paperwork a few weeks ago, but I didn’t get any information emailed back to me, so I just wanted to make sure I get him to the right classroom.” The office was a large, rectangle room. Beside the woman helping them was a shorter, younger girl who chatted away on the phone.

“Sawamako?” the redhead’s voice trailed off and she raised her annoyed gaze.

“Sawamura,” Daichi corrected, stiffening a bit. Tobio increased the vice grip on his dad’s pinky.

“I don’t see anything here by that name.”

“Umm, it should be Tobio Sawamura. He is supposed to start the first grade today.” Daichi’s heart rate picked up - they had gotten the enrollment forms, hadn’t they?

“Yeah, nothing is in here by that name. We probably never got the paperwork.” The secretary smacked her gum, clearly growing further annoyed with this interaction.

Daichi’s heart sank further in his chest.

“I can’t start school today, daddy?” Tobio’s soft murmur only caused the gnawing guilt in his stomach to return. He couldn’t fucking do anything right.

“Just hang on, bud.” Taking a deep breath, Daichi continued. “Okay, can I do them now? I’m sorry, there must have been some kind of a mix-up. I faxed them from my old job and they must not have gone through. We just moved here from California three days ago but I was trying to get it all squared away before we left. Can we get him into class today and I clear the rest of this up tomorrow?”

The secretary reached down and slapped a clipboard hard against the counter that separated them. “Fill out the top one and I’ll stick him in Mrs. Anderson’s class,” she stated flatly. “Bring the rest back with you in the morning including a check for the enrollment fees.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he stated with a soft sigh. One hand clutching his son’s, right hand on the clipboard, they turned around and sat at the gray chairs across from the desk.

“What is going on, daddy?” Tobio inquired, settling into the seat next to his dad. He scooted all the way back so his feet were positioned high above the floor.

“Daddy just has to do a little paperwork, buddy. Then we’ll get you into class.” He pulled out a pen from the breast pocket of his suit coat and begin to fill out the basic info on the first page - name, birthday, social, address. “Your teacher’s name is Mrs. Anderson.”

“I thought you did that already?” he asked, scrunching his nose.

Daichi laughed, exasperated. “Yeah, me too.”

They sat in silence while Daichi finished off the basic information, pulling apart the staples and folding the last half of the packet and sticking it inside his jacket. He just hoped he wouldn’t be late for his own first day.

“Here you are,” Daichi said, handing the clipboard back to the secretary. She gave it a quick glance over, then filled out a little yellow slip. She handed it to Daichi.

“Mrs. Anderson’s classroom is the ‘C’ wing. Take a right out of the office and look for room 107. You won’t miss it.” With that, she looked back down at her computer screen, clearly disinterested in continuing the conversation.

“C’mon, Tobes,” Daichi called, pulling his son’s hand gently as they stepped back out into the hallway. Some of the madness had cleared out, but it was still a lot, he could tell by his son’s renewed grip on his pinky finger. 

Following the instructions as best as he could, Daichi finally made it to the right classroom, the banner above the door reading ‘Mrs. Anderson’s Superstars’. He glanced back down at Tobio, who now looked as white as ghost. “Tobio?” Daichi asked, slowly crouching down and grabbing small, frail shoulders. “Are you going to be okay?”

Tobio’s blue eyes darkened, the color of cold steel, but he did not meet his dad’s gaze. Instead, he fixated on the banner. “My name’s not up there.”

Daichi glanced upward, scanning the names. Sure enough, about 15 names were scattered around the banner, written in bubble font on individual gold stars. ‘Rachel’, ‘Keith’, ‘Jonathan’. But no Tobio. Of course not, Daichi thought, there’s not a star with his son’s name on it because Daichi is a shit bag of a parent who can’t even fax forms in correctly.

Shaking the thoughts away, the dark-haired man turned to his son. “It’s because daddy messed up and didn’t get the forms in on time,” he explained, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice. “I’m sure it will be up there tomorrow once they know you’re a part of the class.”

Tobio clutched the straps of his backpack so tight that his knuckles turned white. “‘Kay,” he whispered. 

He leaned in and gave his son one quick kiss on his ruddy cheek before standing back to full height and opening the door to the classroom. It was a standard class, bright, cheerful posters on the wall, half-moon desks arranged around the room, an oversized reading chair positioned in the corner with a bright area rug in front. Kids were slowly making their way around the room, clutching onto the hands of their own parents in tow, pointing at anything that caught their eye.

“Can I help you?” came the soft voice of an older woman. Daichi turned his head to see a middle-aged brunette dressed in gray slacks and a blue button-down.

“Ah, yes,” Daichi said, extending his hand with the slip of paper. “I am Daichi Sawamura and this is my son, Tobio. I’m afraid I should apologize for the intrusion. We just got his paperwork turned in today, but he’s going to be joining your class this year.”

At that comment, the woman scowled. Visibly, unabashedly, _scowled_. “I wasn’t expecting another student,” she stated flatly, hastily snatching the yellow slip of paper and giving it the once over.

Daichi cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Yes, that’s my fault, I’m afraid. We just moved here three days ago and the enrollment forms got lost in translation.”

“Is English not your first language?” the woman asked, putting a hand on her hip.

Daichi raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

The teacher’s face became all the smugger. “You said the paperwork was lost in translation. I’m assuming English isn’t your first language.”

 _English is my only fucking language, you fat cow_. 

Daichi swallowed thickly, forcing himself to bite his tongue. “Ah, pardon me. What I meant was they got lost on a fax machine somewhere.” 

“Hmm,” the woman hummed. “Well, I’m Mrs. Anderson, anyway. I have room for your son in my class.”

_Wow, how hospitable of you._

“Glad to hear that.” The fake smile on Daichi’s face was hurting his ego as much as it was his cheeks. “This is Tobio Sawamura. Can you say hello, Tobio?” 

The six-year-old clutched tighter to his father’s pants. He didn’t say a word.

The teacher, leaned forward and held out her hand. “C’mon, Tobius, I’ll find you a place to put your stuff.”

“Tobio.”

“Pardon?” she asked, flicking her dark eyes upward to Daichi.

“His name is _Tobio_.”

Mrs. Anderson gave him a tight, flat grin. “Right.”

\----------------------

Daichi took a deep breath as the elevator slowly made it’s way to the seventh floor. After the interaction with that terrible teacher, the anxiety in his stomach felt like it was clawing him apart. He couldn’t help it - he didn’t want to leave his son behind with someone who was clearly an impatient racist. There had to be other teachers in the school, he thought hopelessly, another first-grade teacher in the whole damn building who wouldn’t call them ‘Japs’ or something behind their back. 

The chime indicating his arrival pulled him from his reverie. He was only five minutes late for his first day, which was a blessing considering how held up he had gotten at the school due to the paperwork mishap. He needed to pull it together.

“Mr. Sawamura?” a small voice greeted him as he stepped off the elevator. He turned to his right to see the voice definitely did not fit the speaker. A tall, broad man with long hair tied neatly back in a bun stood just to his right, a short stack of papers in his hand.

“Yes?” Daichi asked, turning to greet the speaker.

“I-It’s nice to meet you, sir,” he said, giving a warm smile. “I am Asahi Azumane, your assistant.” The sweet giant stuck out a large hand, which Daichi shook firmly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Azumane.”

The man reddened considerably at the greeting. “O-Oh, no, sir. Just call me Asahi, that’s fine.”

Daichi released his grip and gave another charming smile. “Okay, then you can please address me as Daichi. And you don’t have to call me ‘sir’,” he added with a chuckle.

Asahi didn’t respond to that verbally, only gestured with his thumb, pointing over his shoulder. “Okay, well let me take you to your office.” He turned around stiffly, stepping down the carpeted hallway. Daichi followed suit.

The hallway past the elevator bank opened up, passing by large windows that overlooked the downtown below. It was a bright, warm space, decorated in blue and gray tones. Light chatter and faint typing rose from the central offices as they passed, Daichi catching glimpses of his new co-workers hunched over computer desks and cups of coffee. 

“How was your move, Mr. Sawamura?” Yeah, Daichi expected as much - his assistant wasn’t going to drop the formalities. “I heard you are coming from our San Fransico office.”

Daichi smiled, running his thumb over the leather handle of his briefcase that rested in his large right hand. “It was okay,” he stated. “It was a bit hectic, but I think once we get a few more boxes unpacked, we will feel at home.”

Asahi threw a smile over his shoulder. “I’m sure your wife would agree with you.”

Thankfully, they had arrived at a solid oak door at the end of the hallway. “This is your office, sir.” The assistant grabbed the doorknob and pulled, holding it open for his new boss. Daichi nodded a thank you, then stepped inside.

It was a large office with windows along the far west side. His oak desk was located toward the back, facing out toward the row of windows with bookshelves lined behind it, undoubtedly stuffed with the world’s driest texts on finances and banking and the history of the fucking dollar. On top of the desk was a sleek black computer with two monitors. A twin set of red wing back chairs sat in front of the desk, acting inviting, as if anyone would actually want to sit there and have a long-winded conversation with the newest Deputy Chief Financial Officer.

“Since you’re a transfer, you shouldn’t need much training and all of your logins should work from your old branch,” Asahi explained as Daichi approached his computer, setting his briefcase down on the carpeted floor. “I know this is a promotion, though, so the CFO wants to meet with you in about 30 minutes. I’ll come to get you then and escort you to his office.” The taller man paused a moment, eyeing his new boss. Daichi met his gaze and scrunched his brows. “Umm, if you need me, just holler.” With a swift nod, the assistant turned and left, leaving Daichi alone.

The newest DCFO let out a heavy sigh, (how many was that today? He couldn’t keep count), and sat down his dark office chair, pulling his briefcase out and setting it on his desk. Undoing the latches, he pulled out the only thing he really needed to unpack - a framed photo of his beautiful, dark-haired boy. He situated it on his desk, just to the right of his far monitor before moving his mouse, waking up his computer, and signing in.

\-----------------------

“He’s a really nice guy, I promise.” That was the third time that Asahi had told him that sentence in the three minute walk to the CFO’s office. “He’s just a bit… tough to read sometimes is all. He’s… reserved.” His assistant nodded at that final word as if satisfied he finally found the proper superlative. 

“I’m sure everything will be fine, Asahi,” Daichi said with a smile, placing a firm hand on the taller man’s shoulder. He squeaked at the contact, but otherwise, seemed to relax.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right.”

Daichi couldn’t help but smile a little - of course, _he_ was the one reassuring his own assistant less than an hour into his first day on the job.

“Ah, here you are,” Asahi stated, pointing to the door just in front of them. The CFO’s office was located on the opposite side of the floor from his. _That seems rather inconvenient_ , he thought but said nothing aloud. 

The assistant gave a quick bow before dismissing himself, disappearing back the way he came.

 _A bow?_ Daichi laughed a little. Asahi Azumane _sounded_ like a Japanese name, but he would be lying if he said the tall man didn’t look full on caucasian. Maybe he really did have Asain roots after all.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Daichi straightened his suit jacket and knocked firmly on the door. A deep voice beckoned, “come in” from the other side.

Turning over the handle, Daichi entered, only to feel like he was stepping into the world’s classiest day spa lobby as opposed to the office of the CFO for one of the largest branches of a high renown bank. 

The room was painted a rich navy blue with sleek, white trim around the windows and baseboards. A modern, gray rug sat in the middle of the room, framed by two wingback chairs, mirroring the ones in Daichi’s office, only these were also white, matching the trim. A colorful abstract painting that almost engulfed the whole far wall hung behind a large, white desk, the only clear contrast in an otherwise strictly color-schemed room. A tall, silver lamp with three, pronged shades stood in the corner, casting warm light into the office. In fact, the overhead fluorescents weren’t even on.

Daichi blinked slowly before bringing his eyes back to the desk where a dark-haired man sat, sleek glasses tipping low on his strong nose. His green eyes flittered up to meet Daichi. The man removed his glasses and stood, extending his hand.

“Daichi Sawamura?” the man inquired, his voice deep and firm, almost commanding, but in a very muted, natural way. His power wasn’t forced - it just radiated off of him.

“Ah, yes,” Daichi spoke finally, taking another step forward to meet the handshake.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Hajime Iwaizumi.” His handshake was strong, deliberate, much like everything else about him. Once they parted, the CFO gestured to one of the chairs. “Please, sit.”

Daichi listened, carefully lowering himself into the seat as the other man did the same. “You have a beautiful office, sir.” Normally, he wouldn’t come out of the gate with a compliment - he knew it would come off as insincere, but in this case, he couldn’t resist. It really was a nice office.

This must have been the right thing to say because Daichi noticed a small smile quirk in the corner of the dark-haired man’s mouth. “Thank you. My spouse got a little carried away, I’m afraid.”

Daichi didn’t miss the abstract title.

“Ah, maybe I should get your spouse to do my office. That thing looks like it belonged to a dead librarian or something.” At the sound of his own comment, Diachi winced - what a dumb ass thing to say.

Surprisingly, Hajime Iwaizumi chuckled softly. “I will pass that along to my spouse, though you may come to regret those words.”

A slight pause fell between them before the CFO spoke again. “You can call me Hajime if you like. I think we’re the same age, and that whole ‘boss’ shit doesn’t bother me anyway.”

Daichi blinked at the candor. “You can call me Daichi then, please.”

Hajime smiled. “Sounds good. How is your first day going so far?” 

Now that was a loaded question. Where should he start? The lost enrollment forms? His son’s clearly racist teacher? The overwhelming guilt and existential dread that filled the very center of his chest when Tobio realized he didn’t have a star with his name on it above his classroom?

“It’s fine, for a Monday,” he laughed a bit nervously, though he wasn’t sure why. Hajime was already turning out to be so much better than his last boss. “Asahi is very kind.”

Hajime nodded intently. “He is a good man, no doubt. Just a bit nervous, but he’ll settle down in a few weeks.”

Relief washed over Daichi. “Good to hear.”

“Did your schedule adjustment work?” Hajime asked, turning back to his computer when the email sound chimed.

“Yes, it did, thank you for doing that. I know you didn’t have to.” His new boss was referring to his adjusted schedule to accommodate taking Tobio to school every day. Instead of arriving at 8, he would arrive at 8:30 and shorten his lunch hour. Though Daichi knew he would make up any work, as necessary, from home at evenings and weekends. He would do whatever it took to make this work.

Hajime glanced over, his expression warm. “It wasn’t an issue. Just please make sure you’re prepared to begin immediately as you arrive. On Wednesdays, we have staff meetings at 8:30 and you will likely have presentations or proposals to give at that time.”

“Sure thing.”

“Did all of your logins work? Your email?”

Daichi nodded in reply. “Yes, everything transitioned over.”

“Were you able to change your home address with HR?”

“I sent them an email a few minutes ago, so everything should be updated soon.”

“Is there anything else you need before you get started?”

Daichi paused a moment. Yeah, he needed a lot of things, but nothing Hajime could give him. “Not at this time.”

“Glad to hear it.” Hajime’s body language suggested they were nearing the end of their conversation, so Daichi rose to his feet. “Please let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will,” Daichi said politely. “And please tell your husband that I would be happy to have him give me pointers on decorations.”

“I--” Hajime froze his typing and dragged his green gaze, alarmed, up to Daichi’s face. Daichi assumed that not many had ever managed to catch his boss off guard like that.

“Have a good rest of your morning,” Daichi added before departing back to his office.

\------------

Three upset stomachs, a broken arm, and a twisted ankle. And it was still only the first day.

Suga sighed and scrubbed his hands over his pale face. How could children be this disastrous? He wondered as if this day hadn’t summed up the last seven years of being a school nurse. The aforementioned students had been treated and either picked up or sent back to class, so Suga was left with his charting and his cold-ass coffee that he was still drinking despite it being after lunch. 

While making scans in the office, he had overheard the various, shallow gossip that never ceased to amaze him - ‘Did you hear Susan got divorced over the summer?’ ‘They didn’t renew Alex’s contract because of too many parent complaints.’ ‘I swear to God if so-and-so’s mom is the chair of the PTA again, I am going to hang myself’.

All dry, boring, meaningless, talk that he hated. Suga loved his job - he loved kids, he loved taking care of them and being there for them when they were sick and vulnerable. But he also loved the perks. Even though the pay wasn’t great (in comparison to an ER nurse with a BSN), he got off every day by 4 o’clock, he had summers off, and he even got to work alongside his very best friend (though that proved to be more of a curse than a blessing most days if their conversation this morning was anything to go off of.)

Speaking of his best friend, a heavy knock fell on the door, so easily distinguishable from everyone else’s. Suga didn’t look up when the door opened once more without permission. “Nurse Sugawara?” Suga scrunched his nose at the elongated title and raised his eyes.

It was his best friend, that much was true, but clinging to his hand was a small, dark-haired boy with wide blue eyes that were anxious and scared, darting quickly around the room. “Ah, Principal Iwaizumi, what can do I for you?” Suga cringed inside knowing full-well that his best friend was probably eating that up.

“Nurse Sugawara, this is a new student. His name is Tobio Sawamura.” The tall brunette glanced down at the sullen boy. “Tobio, would you like to say hello Nurse Sugawara?”

The boy only ducked farther behind Tooru, clutching the hem of the principal’s pants even tighter, eyes finding the floor.

Suga smiled and stood, approaching the boy tentatively before crouching down in front of him. “Hello, Tobio. I’m Nurse Sugawara, but you can call me Nurse Suga.” This earned him a sheepish side-eye. “Is there something I can do to help you today?”

When silence was the only response, Suga glanced up at his best friend, who nervously cleared his throat. “Nurse Sugawara, we were wondering if Tobio could stay in here with you the rest of the afternoon?”

Suga cocked a gray eyebrow. “Oh? Are you not feeling well, Tobio?” The raven-haired boy shook his head. Suga glanced up at Tooru again.

“Can Tobio lay down on your cot for a little while? I think that would make him feel better.”

Suga, doing his best to read between the lines, nodded slowly. “Of course,” he rose to full height before wiping his hands on his navy scrub pants. “Tobio, there is a little bed back just through that glass door. Do you want to go rest a minute?” 

Tobio gave a long glance up at his principal, who gave him an encouraging nod in return, and slowly made his way through the adjacent door, closing it with a soft ‘click’.

“Spill it, Tooru,” Suga stated firmly.

“Okay, so don’t be surprised if I fire a teacher on my first fucking day as principal.” He brought a slender hand to the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses with the action, squeezing his eyes shut in sheer irritation. 

“Why? What happened?” 

“Okay, so Mrs. Anderson called me to her classroom because of that sweet boy,” Tooru craned his neck in the direction of the adjacent exam room. “She was upset that he wouldn’t speak. Apparently, he wouldn’t even utter a peep.”

“Wouldn’t speak?” Suga glanced at the door. “Does she think he has hearing issues?”

Tooru sighed, but it seemed like seething at the same time. “No, I wish that was her reasoning. Fucking bitch asked me down there because she thinks Tobio can’t speak English.”

“What does she thinks he speaks?”

“ _Chinese._ ”

Suga blinked, stunned. “Sawamura is a Japanese name.”

“I think you’re missing the point, Suga-chan.”

The nurse stiffened. “So what, she thinks because he’s Asian and you’re Asian that we all just speak Chinese?”

“Basically.”

“This gets worse before it gets better, doesn’t it?” 

Tooru nodded, face clearly disgusted. “Then to top it off, when I explained I don’t speak a second language apart from English, she said, ‘why don’t you take this _oriental_ boy down to the nurse - isn’t _he_ Chinese?’”

Suga’s mouth fell open. “ _No_.”

Tooru snorted. “Fucking _yes_ . Oh my God.” He ran his hand threw his chocolate hair in an attempt to calm down. “So if sweet Tobio could hang out in here with you, I need to go call HR and the Superintendent to file a formal complaint because _Jesus_ , that’s what this day needed.”

“Yeah, of course, he can.” Suga nodded. He could feel anger pooling in his own stomach, but he knew he had to push it down and attend to the student.

“Okay, bless you,” Tooru leaned down and gave his best friend a quick kiss on the top of his silver head, a gesture he did frequently, though usually off of school grounds. Tooru was affectionate and touchy; it was his way of expressing himself. With a turn of his designer shoe, he left the office, leaving Suga standing under the dim fluorescent light. 

The nurse took a deep breath and pulled at the hem of his scrub top - a habit he picked up in nursing school. He turned and peeked in the glass door of the exam room. Tobio was curled up on the cot, eyes closed, clutching the pillow tightly against his chest. Suga didn’t miss the light tear tracks that stained his reddened cheeks. 

\-------------------------

It was pushing five o’clock and Tobio was sitting on the cot, a cherry red sucker in his mouth and Suga’s phone in his lap, watching a video about polar bears. The boy seemed downright fascinated by them.

“Did you know their skin is black underneath their white fur because it helps them hold in heat?” The dark-haired boy was swinging his feet, blue eyes fixated on the small screen.

Suga chuckled. “Is that so?” He was seated at his desk carding through files, but the exam room was propped open so he could still speak with Tobio.

“Yup,” he said proudly, chomping the sucker loudly between his teeth. “And they can swim for a long, long time without getting tired.”

“I wish I could do that.” Suga actually just wished he could get through the first day of school without feeling utterly exhausted, but that was beside the point.

“Me too,” Tobio nodded.

“Excuse me?” A deep voice filled the office suddenly, prompting Suga to lean forward in his chair. The voice belonged to a dark-haired man who had hesitantly entered the room, peeking concernedly around the door frame. 

Suga swallowed thickly as he looked the visitor up and down. His black hair was cropped short and neatly, framing his strong, handsome face and prominent features. His rich brown eyes softened once they fell on Suga’s face, sending a mild shiver through his body.

“I’m sorry, I’m Daichi Sawamura. I was told my son was--”

“Daddy!” the man’s sentence was cut short as Tobio cut across the room and threw his arms around his father’s legs.

And it took every ounce of self-control in Suga’s body to not let his eyes linger too long on the man’s, _Daichi’s_ , incredible thighs.

“Ah, hello, Mr. Sawamura. I am Nurse Sugawara.” Suga stood and extended his hand. When Daichi’s large, warm hand enclosed around his, he fought to keep himself from melting.

“Nice to meet you, Nurse Sugawara.” The man’s eyes were kind, soft, and just a little somber. “Thank you for taking care of Tobio.”

Suga shook his head. “It wasn’t an issue. Tobio is a sweet boy. And I learned a lot about polar bears.” He accompanied the last sentence with a sweet smile.

This caused the man to laugh and it suddenly felt like home, the sound of it encased Suga, grounding him in place. “Yeah he read about them on the drive here and he hasn’t stopped since. I think it’s his new thing.”

“I mean, polar bears aren’t as cool as grizzly bears, but I guess I get it.” He gave Tobio a wink and the boy beamed. 

“A polar bear would win a fight against a grizzly, Nurse Suga, no doubt!”

Suga shrugged. “Well, clearly you’ve done your research. I’ve been outmatched.”

Tobio giggled again, this time, snuggling into his father’s leg. Daichi smoothed the dark hair down before leaning over and giving the top of his head a quick kiss. “Well, thank you again, Mr. Sugawara. I really appreciate it.”

Tobio handed the device back up to Suga, grinning sheepishly. “Thank you for the candy and for letting me play with your phone.”

“You’re welcome,” Suga said, directing the remark to both father and son. “I’m glad I could help.”

Daichi gave the nurse one last small smile before clutching his son’s hand and turning to leave.

“Daddy?” Suga heard a small voice whisper, suddenly sounding a little sad.

“Yeah, buddy?” came Daichi’s deep voice as he propped the door open for his son.

“I wish mommy was here.”

Suga’s heart shattered, but the door closed before he could hear the father’s reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I will start off saying, first of all, thanks for making it this far. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! I am really excited about this fic. However, I won't be able to dedicate as much time to it until I've completed my UshiOi fic, 'A Man of Substance'. If you're reading that fic and that brought you here, know this fic has angst but not near as much as AMoS (I mean, cuz what fic fucking DOES?!) but a little angst is good for character development.
> 
> Also, for new readers, I'm 27 (old AF) and too old to have just made a Tumblr (I had one when I was 15) but if you want to add me on there, be my guest. So far it only has Haikyuu memes and I think that's about it. [ Tumblr - please yell at me or something](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/photogiraffe77)
> 
> Anyway, please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!! Thank you so much for reading!!


	2. A Sad Ham Sandwich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay you guys spoiled me with all the kudos and comments and love for chapter one, so you only had to wait ONE day to get chapter two.
> 
> But also, I am sorry, but you might not get another update for at least a week because I have to update 'A Man of Substance'.
> 
> Much love. See you at the bottom.

“So how was little man’s first day?”

The top-shelf whiskey in Daichi’s highball glass suddenly didn’t seem strong enough.

“It was…” he let his voice trail off as he closed his eyes, leaning back to rest his head on the kitchen cabinet behind him, cradling the phone to his ear. “A day,” he answered finally, knowing full well that the vague reply was only going to piss his best friend off.

“A _day_? That’s it? That’s your response?”

Daichi snorted and took another long sip of his drink. “Shit, I’m sorry. It just wasn’t a very good one.”

“Kids were mean?” Daichi imagined his friend’s dark eyebrows furrowing and his tall, lean body bristling in concern. He would absolutely not put it past Tetsurou Kuroo to fly six hours just to come kick some snotty first grader’s ass.

“No, his teacher.” 

“I’m booking a flight.” Make that a 55-year-old woman's ass.

Daichi’s eyes flew open. “What? Kuroo, no. It’s fine. I’m getting it worked out.”

A short pause came. “ _Worked out_?”

“Yes, I’m an adult and his father and I am getting it resolved.”

Kuroo seemed skeptical. “So get talking. What happened?”

Daichi set his now empty glass down on the counter and contemplated pouring another one. “His teacher is racist.”

“Shocking, you moved to Cornfield, America.”

“Do you actually think that’s the name of the town?”

“... is it not?”

Dachi chuckled. “Okay, whatever, fair enough. I am supposed to have a meeting with the principal sometime this week after he’s had a chance to meet with the superintendent or something, but I think I’ll know more tomorrow.”

“So did anything good happen at all?” Kuroo pried. One of his redeeming qualities was his knack for finding a positive in every situation.

“Yeah, actually, the school nurse was really sweet to Tobio. He hung out there all afternoon and I think it made him feel a lot better. He was kind of chatty the whole way home and even ate all of his supper without arguments.” It was true - Tobio had babbled in the car after school about polar bears and Spider-Man and the one topic his dad hadn’t minded: the pretty Nurse Sugawara.

Kuroo scoffed knowingly at the last comment. “You fed him McNuggets.” An accusation.

“I fed him McNuggets.” A confession.

“Careful there, Dai, or your son will end up like you and be a chunk that all the neighbor boys tease.”

“Then I’ll just put him in volleyball. That worked out well for me, didn’t it? And besides, _you_ were the rude ass neighbor boy who called me ‘Truffle Shuffles’ like from The Goonies.” He laughed, remembering how Kuroo, his childhood next-door neighbor, would tease him for being chubby, but then threaten to pulverize anyone else who even attempted to poke fun. 

“Hmm, I don’t remember that.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, though the gesture was just for his own satisfaction. “Convenient.”

“So, uh, school nurse huh?” The shift in his tone was not lost on Daichi. “Is she hot? What color of scrubs did she wear? Young or old? I can work with either.”

Daichi reached over and refilled his glass. He was not ready to have this conversation. “Wow, what happened to the concern for my son?”

“I’m concerned about how hot his school nurse is.”

“You are so bisexual it hurts.”

“And your lack of description of the, what I can only imagine is a very, hot school nurse hurts worse, Truffle Shuffles.”

Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a long swig. “The nurse is a man.”

“A man?” came the surprised question. 

“Now who has a backwoods world-view?” he teased, no actual venom in his reply. “Men can be school nurses.”

“Okay, so the question still stands. Is he a hot man?”

Hot was an understatement. Nurse Sugawara, or ‘Nurse _Suga_ ’, as his son so insistently called him, was a literal manifestation of heaven on earth. Daichi would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought at all about the man's gorgeous ash-blond hair and his warm, honey eyes, like firelight on a winter evening, or even about the beautiful, perfect little beauty mark that graced the corner of his face; a blemish that boasted perfection. 

No, Sugawara wasn’t _hot_. He was ethereal, otherworldly, angelic, with a laugh that could withstand the test of time and drown out even the worst of sorrows.

“Umm, he’s good-looking,” was Daichi’s response finally. “He looks young, like, around our age. And his scrubs were navy, you freak.”

Kuroo’s words became mischievous as if he had picked up on something that Daichi had left unsaid - he had a rather nasty, uncanny ability to do such a thing (one of his not-so-redeeming qualities, as far as Daichi was concerned). “So you are interested in him.” 

Fuck Tetsurou Kuroo for making him spit whiskey out. “ _What_? My kid’s school nurse who I exchanged like, four fucking words with?”

“Answer the question, Truffles.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting his eyes shut was the last line of defense Daichi had for fighting off the headache that was building in the front of his brain from Kuroo’s line of questioning. “Ah, I mean, I _guess_. But he’s way out of my league.”

“Daichi, you realize that I’m bisexual, yes?”

An unrefined snort proceeded, “Yes? What does this have to do with the price of tea in China?”

“How many times have I hit on you?”

Daichi grimaced. “Countless.”

“ _Countless_. Because despite you being Mrs. Buttersworth incarnate growing up, you turned out to be this hot ass, fine ass beefcake with pythons for arms and thighs that could crush watermelons.”

Another long sip of whiskey couldn’t mask the shy quality his voice took on. “They can’t crush watermelons.”

“Only because you wouldn’t actually try that one time that I asked. We had the watermelon and everything, all you had to do was squeeze.”

“Daddy?”

Daichi lifted his eyes, attention immediately snapping toward the threshold of the kitchen. Tobio stood, clearly half asleep, little hand balled into a fist and pressed against a closed eye. 

“Hey buddy,” he cooed, holding out a hand toward his son, who padded over and crashed sleepily into his father’s legs, arms embracing his knees. 

“Gotta go?” Kuroo asked over the line.

“Yeah,” Daichi said, smoothing Tobio’s hair. “I gotta get Tobes back to sleep.”

Kuroo’s voice softened. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Give my nephew a kiss goodnight for me.”

“Sure thing.” With that, Daichi ended the call, placing his phone on the counter before bending down to scoop up the six-year-old. The boy leaned heavily into his dad’s chest, tucking his little legs on either side of it, giving a grumpy whine.

“I don’t like my room, daddy.”

Daichi chuckled, patting his son on the back. “What’s wrong with it?”

Tobio pouted, giving an indignant and exhausted huff. “It’s too quiet.” Yes, their two-story suburban home was much quieter than their apartment in the city.

“Do you want me to start the sound machine over?” he murmured, gently soothing small circles between his shoulder blades as he made his way out of the kitchen and into the living room. Boxes and totes were still piled high, unpacked. Daichi was doing his best to avoid looking at it.

“Nuh-uh,” Tobio whined. “I want to sleep with you.”

Daichi sighed, knowing full well that his king-sized bed was half-assembled and only had a mismatched pair of sheets on it. His priority had been Tobio’s room, making sure that it was homey and unpacked and comfortable, to help ease the adjustment of the move. At least, that’s what his therapist had recommended he do.

“I think your bed would be better, don’t you?”

The glassy, full blue eyes that stared up at him broke the father’s heart. “Okay, okay,” he placed a kiss on Tobio’s forehead. “Just for tonight.”

\----------------

Forgetting his coffee was a real Monday move for a Tuesday, though with how the last 24 hours had shaped up, coupled with his red-wine hangover, Suga couldn’t say that he was necessarily surprised, not even a little.

Suga smacked his hands down on his desk in sheer desperation and frustration. He needed caffeine. And lots of it. Maybe Irish it up, for good measure… a little hair of the dog.

“Suga-chan you look like shit.”

The condescending, apathetic tone sounded all the more condescending and apathetic given the current zombified condition of his brain. He balked at the brunette who managed to waft, unheard, into the nurse’s office. Suga once again blamed his uncharacteristically under-caffeinated state of being.

“Seriously, did you get drunk last night?” Tooru stepped further into the room, sneering a bit. He was good at that: judging. 

“Don’t call me an alcoholic.”

“Who said ‘alcoholic’?” Tooru mocked, glancing over his shoulders as if searching for a responsible party. 

“You may not have said it aloud, but I fucking,” Suga made a vague gesture with his hand, “feel it radiating off of you.”

“What?”

“The judgemental aura.”

“Ha!” The cackling laugh Tooru gave him only further increased the rapidly growing fault line that threatened to rip his skull apart.

“Is that the tie and vest combo you meant to put on today, Oikawa?” Suga scowled, raising a mocking pointer finger, knowing full well it would push the taller man’s buttons. It was a hideous combo, as far as Suga was concerned, but then again, no one ever asked him - he wore scrubs five days a week.

“ _Mean_ , Suga-chan!” the brunette whined, stamping his foot angrily. “That’s not my name anymore and this looks really nice on me, thank you very much!”

The silver-haired nurse casually gave his friend the bird. “You’re welcome.”

“You know what, Suga-chan, I was coming to tell you something important, but now I’m not.” Tooru held up his hands, his expression sour. “I hope the hate that lives in your heart gives you premature wrinkles and that your stupid bedhead never lays flat.”

Suga’s mouth fell into a little ‘o’, a reaction to what felt like an all-too-serious response from his best friend. Tooru hadn’t changed much - he was always a bit sensitive and mouthy. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just hungover and forgot my coffee.” He tried to school his expression into something soft and remorseful. “What do you have for me, Principal Iwaizumi?”

Tooru looked him up and down once, then again. “Nope, you know what, you blew it. Keep your flattery.” He stuck his nose in the air and left with a flourish, leaving Suga giggling wildly and unapologetically behind him. Fucking with him was too much fun to even feel the slightest bit sorry.

Turning back to his work, Suga thumbed through the last of the files he needed to finish. A lot of last-minute immunization records had been dropped off by forgetful parents yesterday at pick-up time, and they certainly weren’t going to organize themselves.

By the time the second interruption of the morning came not ten minutes later, it was still only 7:45 and Suga had barely made it through two student files. The gentle knock on his door indicated that it wasn’t his best friend - Tooru would never forgive him so quickly. 

“Come in,” he called, quickly shutting the file and bringing his eyes to the door.

“Is this a bad time?”

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

His brain couldn’t turn the repeating word off, not even a little. The man Suga had spent entirely too much time thinking about in the bathtub last night (while he simultaneously nursed an exceptionally cheap bottle of chardonnay) had magically appeared, swooping in like some sort of goddamn ruggedly handsome (yet still dressed in a suit) dreamboat beefcake combo and was now standing feet from in his own office. The mantra of expletives was well-merited, in his very unbiased opinion.

“No, no,” Suga insisted, suddenly remembering that he should probably speak instead of staring like some sort of creeper (though he was one, he just didn’t need hot dad Daichi knowing that.) “Come in. How can I help you, Mr. Sawamura?”

A faint blush dusted the tan skin on his high cheekbones. “Uh, Daichi, please.”

“Daichi.” He repeated the word earnestly, almost excitedly, almost like he had just been given the key to something very important - yes, Daichi's name was a key to something. 

The taller man gently cleared his throat. “Umm, I just came to drop something off with you. The office said they could do it but the redheaded gal--”

“Looks shady as fuck?” Suga interrupted him.

Daichi blinked slowly, clearly taken aback by the blunt response. “Ah, I mean, to put it mildly, yeah.”

“I’m not very mild.”

“It’s easily my least favorite type of salsa.”

“What is your favorite type, then?” 

“Hot.”

A gray brow arched high on his head, unable to keep the sultry lilt from his voice. “Just in salsa, though?”

Daichi coughed into his hand, clearly a little flustered. 

_Cute._

“Uh, actually, coffee, too.”

“Coffee?” Suga was confused now, tilting his head to the side.

Daichi responded by holding out a cobalt thermos. “Umm, yeah, hot coffee. I like hot coffee, too.” Suga hadn’t noticed him holding it when he had walked in, (probably because he was too busy staring at the way the businessman’s dress shirt stretched across his chest and praying to whatever deity would listen that the top button would pop off). 

“Is this for me?” he rose from his seat and took a step forward, clasping the travel mug between his hands. The cup was warm, no doubt, soothing under his touch.

Daichi ran a hand down the back of his neck, a boyish expression on his handsome face. “Yeah, I came to say ‘thank you’. Tobio said he saw you drinking coffee a lot yesterday, so I thought maybe this would be…” he trailed off, struggling to produce the words. “I umm, just thought you’d like it.”

Suga looked at the mug, then back up at Daichi, then repeated the action one more time before speaking. “Actually, you’re a lifesaver. I forgot my coffee this morning and I feel like I’m dying.”

“Well, you certainly don’t look like you’re dying.” Before Suga could even utter a response to that so obvious attempt to flirt, Daichi had opened his mouth again, “uh, I know I brought it from home, which is probably weird, but I’m not sure where to get good coffee around here, and Starbucks kind of sucks and is overpriced and the only thing I’ve unpacked from the move is basically my Keurig and my highball glasses.” He suddenly froze and his eyes went wide. “Uh--” he sputtered, heat spreading across his cheeks and pouring down his neck, “not that I um, drink a lot or anything. Tobio doesn’t see me drink, ever. Well, last night I was having a whiskey and was on the phone with my best friend and Tobio was supposed to be asleep but he came into the kitchen and I promise I don’t do it every night or anything like that--”

Suga silenced the man with a calming, sincere touch on his very robust bicep. “Daichi, it’s okay.” He softened his eyes and looked up through long, light lashes. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Daichi remained frozen in place for a long moment before he uttered the words, “you’re welcome,” barely audible. 

“Did you put whiskey in this?” Suga tipped the cup in his left hand upward, as if giving a ‘cheers’.

Daichi sputtered then. “Uh, no, I didn’t.”

Suga released his hold, much to his own chagrin, and clasped the travel mug back firmly between two hands. “Well, that’s a damn shame.”

Daichi’s deep brown eyes widened, then crinkled gently in the corners as his face split into a wide, genuine grin; he looked like he was coming back to life. He cleared his throat once more into his hand and before sticking it in his jacket pocket. “I actually have one more thing to give you,” he said as he pulled out what was clearly an inhaler. It had a red base with a white lid.

“Does Tobio have asthma?” Suga furrowed his brow, shifting the coffee mug to free up a hand. Daichi placed the medical device in his open palm, casually brushing his skin as he did so. Suga had to fight to keep the moisture in his mouth. 

“Yeah, but it’s not like, exercise-induced or anything. He just gets anxious sometimes and forgets to breathe.” The way he said it was almost mournful, as if guilt-ridden. 

“Well, I will keep it here in my office.” He curled his fingers around the inhaler and pulled it close to his own chest. “I will make sure Tobio has it whenever he needs it.”

Suga couldn’t get over the expression that the taller man was making now, as if he had utterly melted, as if the nurse had told him that he would jump and pull down the stars, just for him. 

“Thank you, Nurse Sugawara.”

“Just Suga.”

The bell rang them, pulling the ash-blonde to reality. His eyes flitted to the clock over his desk: 8 a.m. on the dot.

“Shit,” the businessman hissed as he stared down at his own wristwatch. “I’m sorry, I better head out.”

“Ah, yes,” Suga folded one arm across his chest, hand resting on his opposite bicep as he brought the first sip of coffee to his lips. “Thank you again for the drink”

“You bet,” Daichi said, raising his hand gingerly as he stepped toward the door. “See you later, _Just Suga_.” Then he disappeared behind it.

Suga’s laugh filled his own chest, the sound so much sweeter and tamer than the maniacal giggle he had given his best friend a mere half an hour ago. 

\---------------------------

 _Fucking. Moron._ Daichi punctuated each word in his head with a less-than-subtle flat-palmed smack to his forehead as he stood (thankfully, alone) in the elevator ride to his office. He had rehashed the conversation with what was surely an angel brought down among mere peasants a thousand times in the brief walk out of the school, and then again in the drive to work, and now, once more (but certainly, not the last time for the day) in the elevator. 

What was that utter nonsense about drinking in front of his son? Was he really so stupid to talk about his alcohol consumption habits in front of a mandated reporter, a medical professional, and more importantly a beautiful, living, breathing physical embodiment of the angelic choir song that plays in cutaways of sitcoms? 

He really didn’t drink that much, truly. His first hectic day at work coupled with Tobio’s blatant shittier first day of school was just enough to fray his nerves into breaking out the well-aged bottle of scotch he kept in case of emergencies. And yesterday was an emergency.

And well, basically after that conversation with Suga, today was an emergency, too. 

And he suddenly wished he had a desk whiskey.

Maybe he was an alcoholic.

“Mr. Sawamura?” 

Daichi jolted his head up, pulling himself out of his thoughts. Asahi was standing there, just outside the elevator bank, a small smile stretched across his face. 

“Ah, good morning Mr. Azumane,” he greeted as he stepped into the hallway.

“Uh, Asahi is fine, sir,” the giant corrected, straightening his tie nervously.

“And Daichi is fine, too,” the shorter man said firmly, but not sharply, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small half-smile. “And don’t call me sir. It makes me feel old.” He began the walk down the hallway, his assistant beside him like a shadow.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Saw-- I mean,” he cleared his throat, “uh, Daichi. It is a habit. Most financial senior executives aren’t nice like you and Mr. Iwaizumi.”

“I understand, some guys in this industry are real assholes.”

“Uh, that’s an understatement,” Asahi stated, scrunching his nose.

“How was the last DCFO?” Daichi inquired as he arrived at his own office, heading for his desk. Asahi lingered beside him.

“He wasn’t um, very friendly.”

Daichi hit the spacebar of his keyboard, bringing his computer awake. “Is that so?”

The giant man nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mr. Iwaizumi let him go because of… circumstances.”

Daichi turned back to his assistant, arching an eyebrow. “Circumstances? Like embezzlement? Fraud?”

Avoiding his gaze now, Asahi shook his head softly. “Umm, something else.”

“Ah,” Daichi stated, not wanting to pry further. “Well, no worries. I promise to work hard and not be an asshole.”

This comment made the tall brunette smile. “Sounds good, Daichi. So um, what can I help you with today?”

Daichi double-clicked the email icon on his desktop. “Let’s open this bad boy up and find out, shall we?”

\--------------------------

“You’re clearly not upset with me anymore.”

Tooru’s glare could cut through steel with the way he shot it in Suga’s direction. “That is so far from the truth, Suga-chan.”

The nurse just chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “That’s not fair, you’ve said way worse to me.”

Tooru lowered his chopsticks before pressing his palms flat together, taking a slow breath in and then releasing it. “You made fun of my outfit and called me by my maiden name. That is _unforgivable._ ”

Suga scoffed, taking a large bite out of his sad ham sandwich (he knew it was sad because when Tooru had marched into his office at noon with his homemade bento, courtesy of his husband, he looked as if were about to vomit and then blatantly said ‘a sad sandwich for a sad little man’.) “You told me that you hope I age quickly and then you insulted my hair.”

“Irrelevant.”

Suga knew well enough that this conversation wasn’t going anywhere. “So what did you have to tell me this morning?”

Tooru batted his long, dark eyelashes, feigning innocence. “Not a damn thing.”

“ _Tooru_ ,” Suga leaned forward then, lowering his lunch to his desk and tucking one hand under his pointed chin. He was using _the_ voice, husky, carnal, demanding with a quiet authority. (It was the one he had to teach Hajime how to use at the beginning of their relationship - that came with a big price tag in the form of a high-end bottle of wine that still hadn’t been opened to this day.) Suga lifted his other hand and tucked a lock of chocolate hair behind Tooru’s ear, the pads of his fingers gently grazing the shell of his ear as he did so. The taller man visibly shivered under the intimate contact, a low, almost erotic whine leaving his throat. “Tell me, Tooru.”

Tooru blinked slowly, the blood rushing to his face. His hazel eyes widened beneath the dark frames of his glasses as he took a shallow, staggered breath. Ah, now he was going to eat out of Suga’s hand.

“I was going to tell you that hot dad-chan was in the office and was asking about you.” The words rushed from Tooru’s mouth so quickly that he had to snap his jaw shut to keep from continuing, the subtle click of teeth sounding like a gunshot in Suga’s ears.

It was Suga’s turn to wear a shit-eating grin. He patted his friend on his inflamed cheek and chuckled just under his breath. “God, you make it so easy, Tooru.”

“Ugh, don’t _do that_!” he screeched, slapping his palms to his own cheeks as Suga pulled away. “I swear to god, you and Hajime both.”

Suga snorted.

“Wait, did you fucking teach him that?”

The sad ham sandwich returned to his mouth nonchalantly. “I do not know to what you are referring.”

“Ugh, you are the fucking worst. Who needs enemies with a friend and husband like mine?!” He waved his hands around as if he were forcing himself to cut off that line of thought. 

“Hajime has been your partner for eight years, Tooru. Did you think I would never tell him about the voice and ear combo thing?”

Tooru went to respond, but then he fell uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes zeroed in at something just over the nurse’s shoulder. Suga looked at Tooru, then turned, trying to follow his line of sight. “What are you looking at?”

Tooru’s face remained flat, but his eyes squinted harder. “Is that my fucking mug?”

Suga blinked once, then once more, trying to get on this bizarre train of thought. “What mug?”

“The blue one behind you.”

Suga glanced back at it. It was the travel cup Daichi had brought him that morning, now empty of its contents and sitting on the shelf behind him, washed and ready to be returned. “No, it’s not.”

“Then why does it say ‘XLT Financial’ on it?” 

Suga squinted, turning to look back it. Sure enough, on the front was silver lettering that read ‘XLT Financial’ along with a pyramid-shaped logo. “Umm, I don’t know?”

“Suga-chan, did you steal that from my house?” he asked accusingly, sharp features looking even sharper with the allegation. 

“Why the fuck would I steal that shitty mug from your house?” Suga asked, shaking his head. “Why are you even worried about it?”

“Then where did you get it?” His hazel eyes flicked back to Suga. “If you didn’t steal it from me, where did you get it?”

Suga sighed, taking one final bite of his sandwich. “Daichi gave it to me this morning.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Tooru scolded, sneering once again. “And also, ‘Daichi’?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did he get it?”

“It fell from outer space. I know you’re into that kind of thing.” Tooru snorted at that remark. “But seriously, why the fuck do even care?”

“Do you not recognize it?”

Suga brought his palm to his forehead - this conversation was making him feel worse than any hangover ever had (or would). “Recognize what?”

Tooru huffed then, full-on _huffed_ , his nostrils flaring dramatically. “The name of the company, _stupid_.”

Suga rolled back in his chair and looked at the cobalt cup a moment longer when the realization hit him like a freight train. His expression must have changed dramatically because when he glanced over at his best friend, the brunette’s face was twisted in the world’s smuggiest (most smug?) smile ever. “Hajime…”

“... just hired his new DCFO.”

\-----------------------------

**[12:31 p.m.]**

**The World’s Hottest Husband:** _Iwa-chan!!!!!_

 **Me:** _No._

 **The World’s Hottest Husband:** _You didn’t even let me say what I needed!!_

 **Me:** _Fucking no._

_And stop changing your name to weird shit in my phone._

*contact updated*

 **Shittykawa:** _You didn’t say no this morning in the shower…. (~ >~) _

**Me:** _fine. what._

 **Shittykawa:** _what is your new DCFO’s name._

 **Me:** _why???_

 **Shittykawa:** _just answer._

 **Me:** _This is fucking stupid._

_His name is Sawamura._

_Why the fuck do you care??_

**Shittykawa:** _OH -M- GEE_

_////^-^////_

_Ahhh thank you so much babe!!_

**Me:** _for what? What is going on?_

 **Shittykawa:** _will explain later._

_Also, Suga did the thing he taught you._

_I know he taught you and I’m mad about it._

_But also, pants off the second you walk in the door._

_Or if you want, just send me pantless pics from your office I’ll figure it out._

_…._

_…._

_Iwa-chan, answer me!!_

**Me:** _Don’t you have work to do?_

 **Shittykawa:** _I have one more favor to ask._

_I have a plan._

**\--------------**

**[2:15 p.m.]**

**Kuroo:** _So let me run through this just one more time... you_ _brought him your shitty coffee. From your house._

_What, they don’t have Starbucks in cornfields??_

**Me:** _Stop. Don’t make this worse._

Daichi groaned a little too loudly as he smacked his face down on the desk. Texting Kuroo every embarrassing detail about that morning's encounter was supposed to make him feel better, but (un)surprisingly, it didn't. 

**Kuroo:** _Smooth._

_Seriously if you didn’t have a kid, I would totally believe that you were still a virgin._

_I mean, I’d still fuck you._

_Just once though._

_I feel like once would be enough._

**Me:** _I have no idea how to take that._

_Is that a compliment?_

**Kuroo:** _Depends, are you feeling inclined to sleep with me?_

 **Me:** _My child calls you ‘uncle’._

 **Kuroo:** _just a step closer to him also calling me ‘dad’._

 **Me:** _Please don’t. My stomach already hurts._

 **Kuroo:** _but only you could call me daddy._

 **Me:** _I am blocking your number._

_And I’m getting back to work._

**Kuroo:** _spreadsheets?_

 **Me:** _That’s usually what an accountant does in Excel, yes._

 **Kuroo:** _I have some sheets you can spread._

 **Me:** _okay seriously, go jump off of the golden gate._

 **Kuroo:** _~love you baaaaabe_

Daichi locked his phone and set it back, facedown, on his desk. He could absolutely not deal with Kuroo’s shenanigans. No way. He had enough to worry about, with what, making a total fool of himself but also how he was still basically the world’s shittiest parent because his thoughts were being capitalized by Suga instead of worrying about whether his one and only son was properly enjoying his day in his new classroom.

When he dropped Tobio off that morning and brought the rest of his enrollment forms inside, the redheaded secretary (the shady one whose name turned out to be Jan), had informed him of the change. Tobio was going to be in Ms. Yachi’s class instead. While she didn’t utter a word about Mrs. Anderson, she did casually mention that the principal would be calling him later that week. Which he already knew, but still. It was a nice reminder that made him feel like he, and more importantly, his son, hadn’t been overlooked and their concerns regarding the situation mattered.

Upon arriving at the new classroom, Daichi immediately felt more at ease, because when they walked in, Tobio’s desk was toward the front, his name written in bubble letters framed in a dye-cut star, which he noticed right away. And the new teacher, a young woman named Ms. Yachi, had a bright, bubbly face and an overall aura that yelled ‘kids are my whole world’. While Tobio was still a bit shy, he did manage to squeak out a small greeting, which already was an improvement. 

“Hey, Daichi?”

Daichi turned in his swivel chair, only to find his new boss occupying the doorway. He looked a bit red in the face, his dark hair a stark contrast from the flushed colorization. 

“Uh, hey Hajime. What’s up? Need me for something?”

The man closed his eyes and tilted his head upward. Daichi thought he caught the words ‘ _stupid Shittykawa_ ’ under his breath, but he couldn’t be certain - was that even a sentence? Was that cryptic?

After another deep breath, Hajime took another step into the office and squared his shoulders, though he looked no less anxious. “Do you have plans on Friday night?”

“I mean, kind of. I do have a kid.” Daichi knew that Hajime had adjusted his work hours to accommodate the school schedule, but he had yet to go into detail about Tobio, He gestured to the picture on his desk. “My Fridays are usually occupied with a Spider-Man marathon and takeout pizza.”

Hajime turned only redder, though he wasn’t sure if that was even possible. His green eyes wandered to his phone as if referencing something. “So you aren’t married?”

Daichi coughed, suddenly a little anxious. His eyes flitted to the windows across from him before returning them to the dark-haired man. “Uhh, I--”

Hajime folded his arms across his toned chest and chortled. “Nope, I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Please forget I ever came in here. Keep up the good work.”

And as quickly as he entered, he left.

Daichi was beginning to think he had imagined it.

\-------------------

**[3:04 p.m.]**

**Me:** _That wasn’t worth the promise of a million blowjobs, let alone one._

 **Shittykawa:** _So is he married or not?_

 **Me:** _He has a kid._

 **Shittykawa:** _wow. You are the world’s worst detective._

_His kid goes to my school, jackwagon. Now where is the mom?_

**Me:** _you figure this shit out. I’m done._

 **Shittykawa:** _what about if I promise you anal?_

 **Me:** _…_

_I literally don’t even have a response to that._

**Shittykawa:** _I tend to have that effect on people._

 **Me:** _it still amazes me that you're an educator with that mouth. who okay'd you to teach small children??_

 **Shittykawa:** _the same fucking place that let you be an accountant!!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first time putting texts into a fic like this. I think it was kind of funny? Maybe I'm biased because Iwa-chan's and Oikawa's exchange basically looks like my husband and I's. (spoiler alert: I am a living, breathing, Oikawa Tooru, right down to the bum ass reconstructed right knee.)
> 
> I hope you guys picked up on my humor and had a few laughs! I know not a *lot* happened but I wanted you guys to get a vibe for the foundation and I am so stoked that Kuroo popped up in this chapter. And I am sorry, platonic lusting for your best friend is basically a requirement in my friendships. Who wouldn't want a piece of Suga or Daichi?! Real talk.
> 
> I don't know who's more fun to write: established IwaOi or bumbling, awkward flirting DaiSuga. What's the most fun to read for you?
> 
> Anyway, thanks again for all of the love and comments, please keep them coming!! They are really encouraging!!


	3. Open House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! I hope you are staying healthy, safe, and well!I also hope you enjoy this chapter. I will leave some more notes at the bottom! :)

“Mr. Sawamura?” 

Daichi’s head shot up to find himself face-to-face with the world’s youngest, and quite possibly, best-looking principal. He had been expecting to be called back at any moment, they did have an appointment that morning. However, he was very much also expecting an old, fat dude with thinning hair and out-of-date slacks. What he got instead was what looked like America’s Next Top Model dressed in a polished suit and tie combo. 

“Uh, yes,” Daichi spoke suddenly, rising to his feet and out of the maroon, plastic chair that sat opposite of the principal’s door. This guy was not his type - he was pretty, sure. And Daichi _loved_ pretty, if a certain gray-haired nurse could be used as an example. But this... was entirely too much with that perfect hair and expensive cologne and the pearly, million-dollar smile. “You can call me Daichi, though. And you are Mr….?” 

“Oh please, call me Tooru,” the tall man stated, reaching his hand to meet Daichi’s. “First names work just fine for me, Daichi. Come on in.” Daichi noted he had a very firm handshake and such long, slender fingers. 

“Thank you,” he replied, letting go of the hand and stepping into the office. Daichi blinked slowly - once, then once more. The office was very modern, adorned with grays and blues and whites… “My boss has a painting like that in his office,” he stated, pointing to the abstract, colorful artwork hanging just behind the desk. 

Tooru arched a thin eyebrow and turned to look behind him. “Oh does he? He must have fabulous taste.” His words were coy and cool and he housed a very mischievous glint in his eyes. Daichi did his best to ignore it.

“He said his spouse did his office for him, so maybe not,” Daichi joked, taking the seat across from the large, white desk. He watched as the principal didn’t sit in his very plush, oversized office chair. Instead, he perched himself at the edge of the desk, crossing his long, athletic legs, all the more accentuated by his dark pleated pants. 

“Or maybe he simply has fabulous taste by being married to such a fashionable, aesthetic-oriented individual.” Tooru smoothed a hand down the front of his white button-down in a motion reminiscent of what almost looked like… pride? 

“Uh, maybe?” Daichi coughed into his hand. He was beyond confused with what was happening. Why did he bring up that stupid painting anyway? “Um, you said you wanted to meet with me about my son?”

Suddenly, as if a light came on, Tooru’s face transformed from smug to professional. He straightened his suit jacket and then rose, taking his place (finally) behind his desk, sitting and folding his hands together on the solid desk top. “Yes, my apologies. I just wanted to have you come in today to go over the events from Monday.” It was Friday morning, and Daichi felt like the first week had been a thousand years long. “As you know, we changed Tobio’s classroom right away. From what his new teacher has said, and from my observations, he seems to be doing much better under her instruction.”

“Yes, he seems to like her class,” Daichi added with a small smile, remembering fondly how his son had chattered on and on about his new classroom, and even about a little red-headed boy in his class. “He told me he made a friend. Which doesn’t sound like a lot on the surface, but it is for Tobio.”

Tooru nodded with understanding. “Good, I’m very glad to hear that. Tobio is very sweet, and he seems to like Ms. Yachi as well. Your son may be a bit on the quiet side, but he warms up a little each day.”

A soft grin tugged at the corner of Daichi’s mouth. “Yeah, he does.”

“Well, I also brought you in here because I wanted to apologize once more on behalf of the school for what happened on his first day with Mrs. Anderson.” Tooru gave a heavy, empathic sigh. “She has been put on administrative leave and will be investigated thoroughly by the school board. She was a transfer from another elementary school in our district, and this appears to be a repeat occurrence. I wanted you to know that as a Japanese man, I also take great offense to the comments she made. Just so you are aware, I will accept nothing less than her full resignation. And if I know my superintendent, he will agree with me.”

Daichi felt a sense of relief wash over him. He, and more importantly, his son, had been heard and action had been taken. “Thank you, that means a lot. I just want my son to feel welcomed wherever he goes.”

“We all want that,” Tooru assured him. “I think Tobio is going to do great this year now that we’ve made these adjustments.”

“I think so, too,” Daichi said softly. “He’s been having a hard time the last few years, and I hoped this move would help do him some good.”

Tooru leaned in, expression a little softer than it had been before. “Was he being bullied at his old school?”

Daichi shook his head and gave a laugh that lacked any humor or joy. His dark eyes fell to his own polished black dress shoes. “It wasn’t really that, it was just a… culmination of things, I think.”

“Is there anything the school can help with?” the young principal asked, increasing the pressure of his folded hand. Daichi couldn’t help but think that his question was very genuine. There was probably a very good reason this man was a principal at such a young age, despite the air he gave off at the beginning of the meeting.

“Do you have like, a school counselor or something? I mean, my son isn’t crazy or anything like that,” Daichi insisted, holding up his hands. No, Tobio didn’t have anything wrong with him, he just struggled to talk, especially after everything he had been through. “He just gets a little anxious from time to time. He has bad dreams sometimes, and he can’t sleep. His mom...” Daichi let his voice trail off, his throat dry and hot tears clawing at the back of his eyes. He couldn’t cry here, not in this stranger’s office at his son’s school. 

“Mr. Sawamura,” Tooru’s tone took a serious quality, lacking any of the flirtatious timbre it had possessed before. He seemed absolutely unphased by the emotional shift the room had taken on. Whatever this man was about to say, he meant business. “I would never, not once, think a child was crazy. If someone told you that he was because Tobio needs someone professional to help him talk, or he needs a safe space to just decompress, then that person should never be allowed around children.”

A heavy rushing feeling washed over Daichi then, as if a riptide was carrying away a piece of damaging debris. He blinked his eyes rapidly, fighting away whatever moisture was trying to linger there. “Thank you for saying that.” He instinctively brought a knuckle to the corner of his eye, collecting a rogue tear. “I worry people expect too much from such young kiddos, especially boys. My son is not boisterous or loud or domineering. He just… is. And I wish that was enough for everyone else.”

“I understand, Mr. Sawamura.” Tooru said that sentence with so much conviction that Daichi was convinced he believed him.

“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to keep me in the loop.” Daichi rose, straightening his suit and extending his hand to shake Tooru’s once more. “I hope Tobio continues to flourish here at your school.”

“Ah, I hope the same,” Tooru said, standing as well and meeting his handshake. Daichi hadn’t paid much attention to his height the first time around (probably because he was too distracted by the Greek-God-Status face, not that he would ever admit that), but this man almost loomed over him, a tall and unwavering, admitting an aura of protection and reassurance. Yes, he was very well-suited for his position. “But one more thing before you go, Daichi.” The young father didn’t miss the change in his demeanor, nor in his speaking tone.

“Of course, what can I do for you?” 

“Next Thursday is the school’s open house. I’m sure you will see something in Tobio’s take-home folder today, but I just wanted to personally invite you.” Tooru came around his desk and stood beside the dark brunette, placing a firm, yet gentle, hand on Daichi’s square shoulder. “You deserve a better first impression of this school than the one we gave you and Tobio.”

Daichi looked up and smiled warmly. “Sure, I would love to come.”

“Great!” the young principal beamed, releasing his hold and walking toward the office door. “I mean, it provides you a closer look at your son’s classroom and you get to check in on how the first two weeks went. There’s normally cookies. Our school nurse makes them, they’re the best.”

All the moisture left Daichi’s mouth as he imagined eating a homemade cookie baked by Suga. Did he bake chocolate chip cookies? Oatmeal raisin? Or did he make and decorate sugar cookies shaped like little school buses and apples and rulers and all that cute shit? “What time?” Daichi asked finally, remembering that he was supposed to respond.

\----------------

“Suga-chan!” Tooru huffed, leaning over to prop his hands on his knees. “This is _not_ fair!” 

“Can’t keep up?” Suga teased as he lapped circles around the slender brunette, who appeared at that very moment, to be dying. His face was beet red and his hair was sweaty and stuck to his neck. 

“You know I don’t usually partake in activities that make me sweat like a whore in church!” Tooru whined. It was nasally and drawn out and clearly quite theatrical.

“Oh my god, so do you just lay there like a dead fish for your beloved Iwa-chan?!” 

Tooru’s face darkened as he lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. That look could probably kill if he really tried. Maybe it even had before. “You damn well know that I don’t.”

This comment caused Suga to visibly shudder, a chill of regret running down his spine. Oh yes, he remembered. He could pour bleach into his eyes and never forget all the times he was scarred for life in college because of the duo’s quite obvious voyeurism kink. Suga would bet good money the kink actually belonged to Iwaizumi, though the stoic bastard would rather die than admit it. A part of Suga thought _he_ would rather die than know for sure... Probably.

“Yeesh, okay,” Suga conceded, finally slowing his steps. It was a beautiful late summer morning, and his Sundays were for running the trails at the far end of town. He loved to run - just put his headphones in and go, no doubts or fears or regrets. Just music and the crunch of rocks and dirt and grass beneath his well-worn running shoes.

His best friend, on the other hand, hated the sweat and the bugs and the humidity, but even then, he insisted on looking absolutely posh. The young principal was dressed in very tight, very short, teal running shorts with a silver embossed Nike logo and a matching silver compression top. On his right leg was a thick white knee brace that helped hold him together through even the most difficult of trails, an injury he had sustained in college and had slowed him down considerably into their late twenties. 

“I just can’t keep up with you, Suga-chan,” Tooru explained, standing to full height once more and taking a long drink of his water bottle. The plastic bowed beneath his firm grasp as he did so. “Not anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Suga said dismissively, though both men knew he didn’t actually mean anything by it. He didn’t intentionally push his best friend so hard, it was just a habit. Running for Suga was freeing, and he just wanted someone to enjoy that freedom with, even in the most innocent and platonic of ways.

“You know,” Tooru explained breathlessly, “if I wasn’t already perfect, Iwa-chan would probably thank you for getting me out of the house to do this. One might argue that it helps me keep my slender, alluring figure.”

Suga wiped his face with the hem of his raggedy t-shirt. It was an old one from high school that he cut the sleeves off of, the orange ‘Field Heights High Crows’ lettering cracked and faded across the front. He had changed his own oil in his little Ford Focus once while wearing that shirt, a dark stain toward his abdomen proof of that. Yes, it was well-worn, but it was his favorite. He never understood why his best friend had to look like a model while he did absolutely anything and everything. 

“Is that what one would say?” Suga teased further, rolling his honey-colored eyes.

“Yes, one would,” Tooru insisted with a short huff, not that he had a lot of excess breath to spare with the way he was still heaving.

“We’ve been out here for about an hour. It’s getting close to 9 and it’ll just get hotter as the sun gets higher,” Suga noted, glancing down at his FitBit. “What do you say we turn around?”

“I say that’s the best idea we’ve had all morning!” The brunette plastered a large grin across his face as he turned to head back down the trail. “And we get to _walk_ for a while.”

Suga rolled his eyes but kept his steps short as he followed his friend. “Are you ready for the open house this week?” 

Tooru snorted. It was a very unattractive habit, if Suga would say so himself (he wouldn’t, though, because Tooru would never hear it - there was nothing on this planet that the man could ever do that would be deemed as ‘unattractive’. Iwaizumi would agree with Suga. He hated those snorts - but also kind of loved them, too). 

“Of course I’m ready,” he stated firmly, stealing a glance back to the ashen blonde. “My school is in top form.”

This claim caused the nurse to laugh so hard he had to hold up a hand to pause them briefly along the trail. 

“Do tell, Nurse Sugawara, what exactly is so funny?” Tooru’s eyes were two narrowed, dark slits on his angular face.

“Top form?!” he asked, knowing full well the explanation that was coming was going to earn him some sort of physical punishment. “Since when have you got to be the _top_?”

Rage: it was an emotion Suga had witnessed Tooru take on many a time, usually directed at their arrogant, elitist, and super blunt superintendent. Suga even saw Hajime on the receiving end of it a time or two. But this… this took the cake. 

The kick was like lighting in his shin, electricity so hot that it went crackling up his leg and sprawling into his femur and hip. He howled in pain as it happened, but also, in laughter, doubling over on himself to take a knee using the uninjured leg. He deserved it. He knew he did.

“Oh yeah, Suga-chan? Well if we were together you know damn well you’d be the bottom so laugh it up! You earned that shin kick and you know it!” he hissed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. Maybe his vision was a bit blurry from the pain, but Suga could have sworn he saw just the slightest tinge of guilt in Tooru’s eyes - he had never kicked him that hard before. 

“Ah okay, you’re right, I crossed a line.” Suga peered up at the slender figure towering over him, a smirk that exuded dominance plastered on his face.

“Damn straight. Now apologize or I won’t tell you a secret about the open house.” His demand was exactly that - it made no allotments for negotiation.

Though this fact never once stopped Suga from trying.

“But I’m already baking all the cookies!” he countered, pouting as he still kneeled on the ground, hand wrapped around his reddened shin.

“You’re not baking _all_ of them, Suga-chan. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Wow, that’s a real rich piece of advice coming from you, Tooru.”

“You’re baking like, a shit ton, but so are a bunch of the teachers. It’s a team effort.” Tooru kept his glare firm and insistent. “So now, apologize.”

Suga could be stubborn, too. “Sorry,” he mumbled half-heartedly.

“Try that again,” Tooru pushed, tone bordering between teasing and downright furious. 

Suga stood, it was his turn to have a mischievous grin on his face. “Tell me or I won’t make a batch of macadamia nut cookies for Hajime.”

One would have thought that Tooru was about to be murdered with the way he gasped and clutched his chest flamboyantly. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” 

“I think we both know better than that, Tooru.”

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” he practically growled, continuing to walk down the path. The sun was getting a bit higher in the sky and the humidity along the river was no joke. “It’s about Hot Dad-chan.”

“Tobio’s dad? Daichi?” Suga couldn’t mask the excited inflection in his voice. What was he getting all worked up about anyway? Daichi had a kid and was definitely not into dudes, right? 

Tooru threw an annoyed glance over his slender shoulder. “Yes, _Daichi_.”

“Okay, so what about him?” Suga pressed. 

“He’s coming to the open house and I told him to try your cookies because they were absolutely delicious.”

Suga scrunched his nose. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?” the taller man scoffed, clearly dejected. “That’s a golden opportunity to hit on him and scope him out!”

“I mean, I figured he was already coming to his kid's open house. But what if he brings his wife? Or Tobio’s mom or whatever?” Suga asked earnestly, his chest tightening a little bit at the idea. Were they divorced? Was she still in California? Were they on a break? Daichi didn’t strike him as the type of individual to have a one night stand in college and wind up with a kid all on his own. Daichi came across as a good man with a big heart, who dated for love and valued his partners. His nervous babbling and quite apparent attempts to flirt (poorly) made it obvious he wasn’t a player or a douche or anything of that variety. 

“I don’t think he has one,” Tooru explained. “Hajime said he only has a picture of Tobio in his office. No family pictures or anything.”

“Hmm,” Suga hummed thoughtfully, the duo continuing down the trail. “But what if he’s straight?”

“He’s not straight.” Tooru’s tone was so matter-of-fact, Suga reeled for a moment. 

“But he has a kid.”

“Not _completely_ straight,” Tooru amended. “Trust me.”

Suga did. Tooru’s second sense for those types of things had been never wrong in the past. He sighed heavily - he just hoped that he was right this time, too.

\-----------

“Daddy? Where does this go?” Tobio held up a very small box, just big enough for him to lift without giving Daichi a heart attack. Tobio had been doing his best to be helpful all morning, which was very sweet. But at the same time, also a little distracting.

Daichi looked over his shoulder before wiping sweat from his brow. “Umm, I think that has something of your mom’s in it. You should go put it on my bed.” The boxes had been piled haphazardly in their living room for almost a week, and Daichi was determined to get settled. He was tired of fishing through boxes to find a damn spatula or a movie Tobio wanted to watch or whatever other random items he required at that point in time. They moved here, they owned this house, and now it was time to make it a proper home. 

Tobio blinked slowly, looking carefully at the small box. “Mama’s?” he repeated, voice much softer than it had been before.

“Here, buddy,” Daichi said, crouching down beside his son, setting a firm right hand on his shoulder while slowly taking the box with his left. “Let me see.” 

Tobio nodded and let go of the box, watching carefully as his dad undid the tape and opened it up. Inside of it was another box, but this one was velvet and had the name of a jewelry store embossed on the outside. Daichi felt his heart rate spike as he stared down at it, running a thumb over the golden clasp. “Your grandma must have packed this one.” 

“What’s in it, daddy?” His dark blue eyes were narrowed in concentration. 

“It’s something special,” Daichi explained, putting the little square box into his pants pocket. The feeling of it there pressed so snuggly into his pocket sent a wave of painful nostalgia through him, clenching his heart in the process, the box almost burning against his thigh. “I’m gonna go put it away, okay? You finish unpacking your toys and put them in the toy chest.” 

Tobio only nodded before turning on his heel and grabbing a little tote that was filled with stuffed animals and making his way down the hall.

Once he knew he was alone, Daichi pulled the box back out from his pocket, flicking it open. The ring glared up at him, just as shining and beautiful as the day he bought it ten years ago, a cushion cut diamond set on a platinum band: refined, but not flashy or arrogant. Just like her. He hadn’t looked at it in almost four years - it was pointless. What good was a ring when she wasn’t around to wear it? What did it mean now that she wasn’t here? At the time of its purchase, he had just been some dumb nineteen-year-old with this picture in his head of what a family, and his life, should be, without the faintest idea of what reality had in store for him.

“Daddy, I put my toys up and now I’m hungry!” Tobio declared from somewhere behind him, prompting him to snap the box shut, curling his large hand around it in an attempt to conceal it.

“Sure babe, what do you want to eat?” Daichi asked, turning around to address his son. But when their eyes met, Tobio’s face fell, his smile disappearing in an instant.

“What’s wrong, dad?” 

“Hmm?” Daichi asked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re crying,” Tobio stated flatly, raising a pointer finger to gesture to his father’s face. “Why are you crying?” 

Daichi hadn’t noticed them, the sneaky tears that had weaseled their way out of his dark, almond eyes and were now parading down his face, clinging to tan skin for dear life. He brought the back of his hand up to brush them away. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m alright,” Daichi assured his son, doing his best to conceal the strained noise in his throat as he spoke. “What do you say about peanut butter sandwiches, huh? I’ll cut the crusts off for us!”

Tobio crossed his arms, his skepticism was tangible. “But you normally say that’s wasteful.” 

Daichi only smiled brightly, giving a shrug. “Well, I guess if you’re gonna argue…”

“No, no!” Tobio’s hands shot up as he dashed toward the kitchen. “Last one there is a rotten egg!”

\---------------

Daichi swallowed thickly. This was not his cup of tea. He wasn’t a shy person, not really. He was usually well-liked in his workplace and made friends pretty fast, even in college. But this was completely different - this was about Tobio. 

And while he was confident about most things - he was a good employee, he was smart, he worked hard - he always felt self-conscious about being a single parent. He didn’t want the other kids to question Tobio or make him feel bad when his dad was the only one who showed up to events. He never wanted his son to feel like an outsider, or like he was different. Tobio was special and sweet and deserved better than just him - he deserved two parents. 

“Is this one yours, bud?” Daichi asked, pointing to a bulletin board just outside of his classroom. Each artwork was nearly identical with only minute differences, but to Daichi, it was obvious which one was his son’s. Of all the torn-up tissue paper foxes hanging up, Tobio’s was the best, done to a neat detail. 

“Yes,” the dark-haired child nodded sweetly, doing his best to compress the little grin on his face. Tobio was quiet, without a doubt, but he knew what he excelled at and took great pride in what he did. Daichi often worried he would grow up to be a bit of a perfectionist, but would that really be the worst thing in the world? 

“It looks awesome,” Daichi gushed before quickly glancing around and bending down to whisper to his son, “it’s easily the best one up there.” The boy just giggled in agreement. 

The classroom tour had been quick and painless. Ms. Yachi, the energetic young teacher, bragged about Tobio’s desire to help her around the room, to tidy up, or even run to the office with errands. As far as coursework, math wasn’t his strongest skill at the moment, but she was doing her best to tie geometry and math into art, which the young boy seemed very receptive to, given his affinity for crafts and hands-on activities. All of this made Daichi very proud.

After they finished in the classroom, they continued to make their way around the school, finally landing in the gym which had colorful booths set up for games and even a fundraiser raffle. It was luau-themed, the paras and staff helping with the activities while dressed in hula skirts and colored paper chain necklaces meant to look like lais around their necks. 

“Do you want to play a game?” Daichi asked, but he knew the answer: Tobio shyly shook his head. It was pretty crowded in there, and Daichi figured that was the determining factor. “Okay, what if we go buy a few raffle tickets first? I bet we could win a really cool prize!” Tobio seemed on board with this, at least. 

Making their way to the table, Daichi pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to the raffle attendant, which bought them twenty tickets. Tobio loved holding the roll of tickets to his chest.

Looking at the prizes, some of them were quite expesnive, a lot nicer than Daichi expected of a PTA raffle at a public elementary school. The prizes on the table included gift cards to local restaurants, a fancy RC car, and a ‘Frozen’ bike, just to name a few. The biggest donation though was clearly sponsored ‘XLT Financial’, whose logo was attached to a giant gift basket that was filled to the brim with electronics: an iPod touch, airpods, a Nintendo Switch, and well, Daichi couldn’t see what else, because he was too taken aback. Was his work a sponsor of the open house? 

Daichi didn’t have to wonder long when a sickly sweet tenor voice caught his attention. “XLT Financial is the biggest sponsor of our PTA and other after school activity programs that would be severely underfunded if not for their generous donations.”

Whipping his head around, the young principal he had just met the week before was standing beside him, dressed in well-fitted khaki Bermuda shorts and what was quite possibly the most attractive Hawaiian button down he had ever seen (actually, he didn’t know it was possible to look good in one of those?). Gaudy, oversized novelty sunglasses rested on top of his head, the perfect accessory for his damn ungodly, glorious hair. 

“I work there,” Daichi said dumbly, unable to come up with something better to say. He wasn’t sure if he was still just surprised to hear that about his employer or that he just realized that the principal was wearing Coach flip-flops.

“Do you?” The way he smiled with just the corner of his mouth and squinted his eyes just a little made Daichi suddenly feel like he was under a magnifying glass. 

“Ah yeah, I’m the new Deputy Chief Financial Officer, actually.”

“I hear your boss is a real peach.”

Daichi blinked, unsure what to say. “Umm..”

From across the gym, someone hollered, “Mr. Iwaizumi! We need you for a photo op!”, prompting the tall brunette to snap his head around.

“Well, I’m being beckoned.” He gave Daichi a wink and yet another coy smile. “Make sure you stop by the nurse’s booth, Dai-chan.”

 _Dai-chan_ ? Was that… his new nickname? And… _Mr. Iwaizumi_? That was his boss’s name. That wasn’t a common name. And his work just donated a shit ton of money to the school for all kinds of stuff. Did that mean--?

“Dad, can we go see Nurse Suga?” 

Tobio pulled him from his reverie as he tugged impatiently at his dad’s hand, trying to steer him to the far end of the gymnasium. When Daichi lifted his eyes, he finally saw him, and it took his breath away.

Whatever utter nonsense he had thought about the principal being the only man on the planet to pull off a Hawaiian shirt was long forgotten, because, in all actuality, Nurse Sugawara was the only one who could wear such an out-dated article of clothing and still look like he was sent directly from heaven. The hot pink patten of his shirt lit up his soft features, the silver flowers on it coordinating with his hair to make it appear as if his entire being was just one gorgeous, luminescent state of existence. 

“Nurse Suga!” Tobio called excitedly as he got closer to the table, causing the ashen-blond to turn and kneel, holding out his arms. Tobio let go of his dad’s hand to run and crash into Suga’s hug,

Daichi never thought he would be so jealous of a 6-year-old.

“Hey, Tobio!” Suga greeted, pulling away from the boy and giving him a warm smile. “How do you like the luau?” 

“I love it! I like your shirt! It’s pretty!” 

Daichi blinked. It sure the fuck was.

“Thank you! Did you play any games yet?” he asked, rising back to his feet.

“Not yet, but we bought raffle tickets!” He held up the wad of orange tickets that were still bundled in his left fist, seemingly very proud of the fact they had paid $20 for only a slim chance at winning.

“What prize do you think you’ll get?” Suga asked, sneaking a sideways glance at the boy’s dad. Daichi stood very still, blood rushing to his face. Nope, now was not the time for him to open his mouth and fuck up and say something stupid.

“The RC monster truck!” Tobio declared loudly, a beaming grin on his face. “Then I can take it in the backyard and do jumps off rocks and stuff.”

“That sounds really cool,” Suga acknowledged with a nod. He turned fully toward Daichi. His brown eyes were so warm, twin honey orbs, his pretty pink lips pressed in a shy smile. “And what about you, Mr. Sawamura? What prize would you like to win?”

 _You_. 

“Uh, I think the truck sounds cool, too. We could play with it together, right, Tobes?” His son nodded vigorously, obviously very pleased his dad was on board with the electronic car.

“Well if you haven’t played a game yet, would you like to try mine?” Suga offered, stepping toward his table. “It’s bean bag toss, but you have to find a partner.”

“Can daddy be my partner?” 

Suga shook his head. “Nope, neither of us can be your partner. It wouldn’t be fair! You have to find a friend.”

Tobio looked nervous then, and the sight caused Daichi’s stomach to clench. Maybe he could just be his partner, right? It was technically against Suga’s rules, but it would be okay just so he could play one game, right? 

“Tobio!” 

Daichi shot his gaze upward, clearly confused as to who just called his son’s name. It didn’t take long to solve that mystery, though, as a blur of red hair whizzed past him to collide into his son.

“Ow, Shoyou, you ran into me too hard!” Tobio complained, trying to pry the smaller boy away. Daichi knew his son was tall for his age, but this boy looked so tiny, he had to still be in preschool.

“I’m sorry, Tobi!” the smaller boy grinned so brightly, Daichi felt like he had to squint. He was a little fluff ball, like a Pomeranian pup, bright orange hair sticking up and away from his head. He wore black basketball shorts and matching jersey that was just a touch too big, clearly sporting his favorite athletic team. His chubby cheeks were covered in a sea of little freckles, and his bright, fiery eyes were just as shining as his smile. Daichi felt like he was staring down at sunshine brought to earth. 

He couldn’t help but think this boy must have come down from heaven with Suga.

“Who is your friend?” Daichi asked, crouching down to extend a hand to the little redhead. 

The boy didn’t wait for Tobio to take the lead. He snatched the adult’s hand and shook it with enthusiasm. He had a pretty firm death grip for such a small thing. “My name is Shoyou Hinata. I am six years old and Tobio Sawamura is my very best friend!”

The laugh that left Daichi’s chest was so genuine and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to contain it. “Is that so? Well, I’m Mr. Sawamura, Tobio’s dad, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Shoyou Hinata.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir!” he said excitedly (Daichi wasn’t sure if he was even capable of saying or doing anything in any other state of being). 

“Now Tobio, didn’t you need a partner for my game?” Suga asked, giving Daichi a small wink that the taller man was pretty sure just caused his heart to stop. 

“You need a partner, Tobi?” Shoyou’s eyes were two large, over-eager saucers brimming with jubilation. His hands were still on Tobio’s arms, shaking them while the redhead vibrated in place.

“Don’t call me that!” Tobio huffed weakly. “And I _guess_ you can be my partner.”

“Tobio…” Daichi chastised using his best dad voice.

The brunette child rolled his eyes (Daichi would have a talk with him about this later) before he sucked in a sharp breath and said, “Shoyou, will you please be my partner for the game?”

This about caused the little boy to self-destruct with glee. “Yes!! C’mon, I’ll show you how to play! I played it earlier, it’s so fun and then we can get cookies!” He grabbed Tobio’s hand, leading him around the side of the table to the bean bag boards positioned on the floor.

“The prize for teamwork is a cookie,” Suga explained once the boys were paired up, Shoyou eagerly explaining the rules and Tobio watching with quiet interest. 

“You knew that the Shoyou boy was around, didn’t you?” Daichi asked, cocking a dark eyebrow.

Suga smiled once again, offering a simple shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” 

“Thank you,” was all Daichi could think to say, because he was truly grateful. Even if he felt like a shit parent most of the time, nothing made him feel better than knowing his shy son had made an actual friend.

“He’s a good boy,” Suga stated, nodding in the direction of the redhead. “He’s got a lot of energy, but he’s very sweet.”

“He seems that way.”

“So, how are you settling in?” Suga asked, changing the subject as he casually leaned against his table that was covered in pamphlets about various health topics and screening forms and of course, a tray of assorted homemade cookies. Daichi noticed they appeared to be chocolate chip.

“Umm, it’s going okay,” Daichi said, scratching at the back of his neck, cheeks warm from simply being under Suga’s gaze. “I think I’m finally getting around easier. I have the road to work, school, and the grocery school all memorized.”

“Grocery school?” Suga tilted his head to the side.

“Oh shit, uh, I meant grocery store!” Daichi’s face was completely inflamed now. Panic set into his chest - yeah, it didn’t take him any time at all to fuck this conversation up. "And I didn't mean to say shit in a school just now."

“Have you been drinking?” Suga’s tone was light and airy, clearly joking, but this didn’t keep Daichi from sputtering.

“No, no, of course not! I don’t drink and come to school events! I mean, that would be extremely inappropriate and--”

“Suga-chan, I thought I told you to quit harassing the parents of my students.” Tooru floated into their space as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He was light on his feet and didn’t even make a sound as he approached. At least not that Daichi noticed, probably because he was too busy feeling like he was going to keel over from embarrassment right then and there.

“Is it harassment if they like it?” the ashen-blonde countered.

“You make each workday a living nightmare.”

“Are you saying you dream about me, Tooru?” Suga fluttered his long eyelashes in such a sickeningly sweet way that Daichi had found himself, once again, beyond jealous because said fluttering wasn’t directed at him. 

“I don’t even want to know what it is that you think you’re doing right now, Suga-chan.” Daichi watched closely as the young principal’s lip curled in an apparent, disdainful sneer. 

“Giving you a taste of your own medicine, duh.” 

"You are such a dreadful human," Tooru retorted. "Don't let me interrupt, I’m here to give away the first prize of the raffle." He was holding up a gray card in between his middle and index fingers. 

“Oh?” Suga asked. “I didn’t think they started drawing yet?”

“Consider it a door prize,” the tall brunette stated, holding the card in Daichi’s direction.

The young dad had completely forgotten he was supposed to be a part of this conversation. “Umm, for me?” he asked, again cursing himself for just how stupid he sounded.

“You’re the first winner this evening.”

Daichi plucked the envelope out of the man’s hand and slowly opened it. Inside was a $75 gift card for a fancy steak restaurant. It was a local establishment and well known, not some generic chain place. “Oh,” he said, smiling. “I hope they have a kid’s menu.” That was literally the only thing he could think to say because he had no idea what the fuck to do with a gift card to a steak place.

“That’s Suga-chan’s favorite restaurant,” Tooru said suddenly, eliciting a squeak from the nurse. “And that man loves well-done meat.” Before either of the other two men could begin to utter a response, the principal started walking away, playfully wiggling his fingers as he did so. “Please excuse me, I have to go do important principal stuff now!” 

Red-faced and clearly a little flustered, Suga turned toward the brunette dad with a sheepish look. “I’m sorry about him. He’s been my friend a long time and--”

“This is your favorite place?” Daichi asked, holding up the gift card (though did he ever lower it in the first place?). 

Suga’s caramel eyes widened. “Huh? I mean, yeah. They do have the best steaks that I actually eat medium because I’m clearly not a monster.” He scoffed dejectedly as if the idea of eating a well-done cut of cow was the worst atrocity he had ever heard.

“Clearly.”

“Pardon?”

“Clearly you’re the opposite of a monster.” What the fuck did Daichi just say? He cringed in his head (god he hoped it was in his head and not actually written on his face). What kind of stupid-ass flirting was this?! He could scream if he wasn’t in a gym full of families that probably already thought he was a weirdo anyway.

“Clearly,” Suga repeated, smiling wider than he had been before.

Daichi coughed into his hand, trying to shake some sense into his brain. He needed to say something, anything, not just stand there with his mouth open like a dead fish and--

“They don’t have a kid’s menu.”

Daichi blinked. “They don’t… have a kid’s menu.” It was like his brain was autopilot and he couldn’t do anything but repeat what Suga was saying.

“Nope. But if you needed an adult to go with, I cou--”

“Will you go have dinner with me?” Daichi asked, suddenly very proud that he opened his mouth and said something coherent, but then he was suddenly very much filled with existential dread instead as he realized that he just asked his son’s school nurse on a date. 

“I would love to have dinner with you.” 

Yep, Daichi’s heart dropped, spiraling to his stomach, performing pirouettes all the way down. 

“You would?” He had to be a thousand percent sure he wasn’t just imagining things.

“I very much would.”

“I don’t know a sitter.” Daichi blurted out the comment as it dawned on him - he didn’t know a sitter. He didn’t know anyone except for the few people from work and Asahi was probably terrified of kids while Hajime didn’t seem like the type to like kids, but that would be highly inappropriate anyway. He was his boss. That would look so, so bad. And not to mention he was pretty sure his boss was married to his son’s principal, though he barely had been able to muster enough brain cells to form complete sentences, let alone put that 2+2 together. 

“Daddy!” came his son’s sweet voice as he latched onto his dad’s free hand (the one not holding the gift card). “Can I stay the night at Shoyou’s tomorrow night?” 

Daichi looked up down at his son, then back up at Suga. The babysitter problem just solved itself. “So,” he asked, voice as firm and confident as he could make it, “ are you free tomorrow night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all - I am just blown away! I can't believe I hit almost 100 kudos in the first two chapters. Like, what?! You all have also left me some really sweet, encouraging notes along the way and that means the world to me. Please continue to leave comments because they really motivate me to keep writing. Please keep in mind, I don't have a beta-editor and it's just lil ol' me (giant me, I am literally a 6'0" giant hahaha) doing the best I can to write stuff I think you'll enjoy reading. So if something is messed up or sounds dumb at any point, please forgive me!
> 
> The next chapter is going to have some fun stuff happen that I think you'll enjoy! I will probably update this about every two weeks until my other fic, A Man of Substance, is completed. 
> 
> Be safe, happy, and healthy! Catch ya soon!
> 
> Ahh!! Hot Dad-chan goes on a date(?)!!!
> 
> P.S. - IwaOi with matching offices because our beloved Oikawa can't help himself?! And Iwa-chan making the company donate money and prizes to the school? Ugh, those two I sweaaaarrrr. *insert crying/heart emojis*


	4. Medium Steak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! A quick note about this chapter. A little angst surfaces here that will probably answer a few questions, but will still leave you asking more. All will be revealed in due time!! At the beginning of the dinner date, perspectives switch as indicated by the '/////'. See you at the bottom!

“It’s not a date.”

“Kinda sounds like a date to me, Sawamura.”

“It’s two dudes getting steak.”

"Then getting ass.”

Daichi choked on his water at that comment, starting to cough. He could feel his face turning red, though it was unclear if it was from the crude suggestion or the lack of oxygen to his brain from his hacking fit.

“That’s the spirit, Sawamura!”

“Kuroo,” Daichi hissed through his now-hoarse throat, slamming his glass of water on the coffee table, “I swear to god.”

“What?” his best friend practically squawked over the phone line. “He’s this gorgeous nurse and he wants to go out and eat steak with you at his favorite restaurant. It sounds like a date.”

“I am not paying for a first date with a gift card. Do you know how tacky that is?”

“So then don’t. Say you forgot it at home or some shit and pay with your debit card, then use it as an excuse to take him there another time.”

Daichi paused, anger subsided and hysterics forgotten. “That’s actually…”

“A good idea?” Kuroo sounded proud, _too_ proud. “Fuck yeah it is, I’m a smart dude. And I’d like to point out that you, in a roundabout way, just admitted it was a date.”

“Don’t push it,” the young dad warned.

“Have you stalked him on social media yet?”

Daichi clicked his tongue. “What? Why would I do that?”

“Umm, to get a scope of him. What he’s into, what he likes, what kinda memes he posts - the important shit.”

“Those are things you discuss on a first date.” He couldn’t keep count at the number of times he had rolled his eyes already.

“Would James Bond go into a mission without a dossier?” 

“Oh God not this,” Daichi sighed, running a hand down the side of his face, clearly exasperated. The last thing he needed was for Kuroo to go, at length, on and on about the details of his favorite action movie. It would be distracting, sure, but not helpful.

And he was already nervous enough for a multitude of reasons. One being that he was possibly going on a date with a _man_ , something he had never done before, and he had no idea what to do or what to say. He had been single for so long, he wasn’t even sure where to start anymore. 

And on top of that, Tobio was going to be spending the night at a friend’s house, which was something he hadn’t really shown much interest in, even back in California. He liked being at home with his dad. But Daichi wanted him to branch out; childhood sleepovers were a cornerstone in growing up. And Shoyou’s mom had been a very sweet lady, a little ginger-haired woman in her mid-thirties. She was insistent about letting the boys have a sleepover, explaining that while Shoyou was outgoing and talkative, it took a special type of person to latch onto him in return. And it warmed Daichi to know that his quiet Tobio was just right for the job.

And as if reading his thoughts, Kuroo chimed in, “Okay, okay, so no spy movie talk. But I know big man’s first sleepover is tomorrow, too. Are you going to be alright?” As much of an outward idiot Kuroo was, he was also equally as caring. Not much slipped past his cat-like eyes and keen sense of awareness. 

Lowering himself on his sofa, he let out a long sigh, leaning back so his head fell lazily on the back of the couch. “I don’t know… I think doing them together on the same night was the wrong thing to do.”

“The date and the sleepover?”

“Yeah,” Daichi nodded, pressing his phone closer to his ear. “I think I’m just going to be distracted the whole time I’m with Suga. And that’s not fair to him.”

“Is Tobio excited?”

Yes, Tobio was quite excited, as excited as the shy 6-year-old could be. He chattered on and on about the little redhead on their drive back from the open house until he fell asleep, cheek resting against the back seat window. 

“He is,” Daichi admitted, unable to keep the smile from his voice as he recalled the little glint in Tobio’s eyes at the idea of staying with his friend.

“And they’re a nice family?”

“Yes, they seem that way.”

“Then don’t worry so much! Let him have fun and you go have grown-up fun.” Kuroo was careful to keep his voice encouraging and positive as he asked the one question Daichi definitely didn’t want to hear, “or do you feel guilty if you do?”

It was like a cinder block tied to his heart, anchoring him to the past and all of his regret, tethering him to all the pain that haunted him. He relived that hurt every time he looked at his son, especially when he wore that same quiet, thoughtful expression that his wife once did. “Of course I feel guilty.” 

“Yui wanted you to be happy, Dai. She told you that.”

But that didn’t register with Daichi. He felt selfish, forever the insolent asshole. It wasn’t his fault, he knew that on the surface. But deep down, he couldn’t help but think it was; had they never got married and he had just been honest with himself right from the beginning, she would still be here. Albeit, without Tobio and with a whole completely different set of scenarios, but still: she would be here.

“I don’t deserve to be happy, not after what I did.”

“Fuck,” Kuroo spat, no longer governing his emotions. “She was my best friend, too, Dai, not just your wife. I shouldn’t even have to repeat this, but damn it, I will. I told you this five years ago and I’ll tell you every day until you finally fucking get it: you didn’t do anything and Yui wants you to be happy. She told me that repeatedly, just like she told you. You can’t keep waiting on her to come back, Dai, because she fucking never will.”

Hot, burning tears stung the corners of his eyes, wet and biting as they ripped down his face. He didn’t cry often, or at least, he tried not to. He wanted to be strong, a fierce man who wasn’t easily broken or swayed, courageous, unrelenting. He needed to be those things because he was alone with his son, and now even more so, after packing up and leaving behind his mom and his best friend. “I can’t do this,” he sobbed through a broken and cracked throat, pressing the back of his hand firmly to his eyes in an attempt to quell the waterworks and regain composure. But it didn’t work; his chest was on fire with remorse.

“Dai, you can,” came the reply, whisper-soft, tinged with its own sadness. “Babe, don’t cry, it’s okay.” 

“I took her from us both, from all three of us,” he whimpered, “it’s my fault.”

“Dai…” 

“Don’t.” That word carried finality, heavy with indignation. He was tired of being placated, being told it was fine when it wasn’t. As long as Tobio never had a mom, and his only parent was Daichi, the boy would never grow up to be happy because he knew he would never be enough.

“Okay, I’ll stop, I’m sorry,” Kuroo’s own voice was fragmented, his words coming out in pieces as he tried to recover himself. “I just love you so much, Daichi, and you are my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too,” Daichi admitted, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t meant to lash out like that, but sometimes even he had issues controlling his anger. “I’m sorry I yelled.” His throat felt dry and his eyes stung and he was so thankful that Tobio was still passed out from all the excitement from the open house, deep in a sleep upstairs in his room.

“Please tell me that you’re gonna go lay down and get some rest now.”

The young dad just chuckled, though it lacked humor. “Yeah, I will.”

“Put an eye mask on or you’ll have puffy eyes overnight and look like a stoner for your date.”

This time, Daichi’s laugh was genuine. “Fuck you,” he said with zero venom.

“God I wish you would have just married me.”

“Good night, Tetsu,” Daichi said, drawing out the nickname with an annoyed grunt.

“Goodnight, Dai.”

After hanging up the phone, he set the device on his chest and stared up at the white ceiling. It was late, he knew that, and he was exhausted. But he also knew he would be lucky if sleep ever actually came to him that night.

\-------------

Suga was nervous. Tooru had told him not to be, but he still was. Of course he was. He would be stupid to go into this ‘date/not a date’ scenario with anything but butterflies. And not just regular butterflies, no way. These particular winged-insects that occupied his stomach came equipped with razor-sharp talons that threatened to shred his interior to smithereens. 

“Don’t be nervous, Suga-chan,” is what Tooru had chimed at him from inside the young principal’s oversized master bedroom. Suga had made a trip to his best friend’s house prior to heading to the restaurant for a ‘makeover’ because, again, the nurse apparently couldn’t be trusted with his taste in fashion due to wearing scrubs five days a week. “You basically wear tactical pajamas to work, Suga-chan,” the principal had stated with a disgusted tone, “I get to dress you for dates.”

Not only had Tooru dressed him and styled his hair, forcing his little cowlick to comply, but he also made the ashen blond parade out to the living room to a very disinterested Hajime, who sucked on a beer and watched a basketball game on television.

“How does he look?” Tooru asked, motioning to Suga like he was a car to win on a gameshow instead of a living, breathing human. 

“Looks fine,” the dark brunette grunted, barely removing his green eyes from the flatscreen.

“You didn’t even really look!” Tooru had barked, placing himself between his husband and the television (a mistake, in Suga’s meager observations - that particular action _always_ sent the Iwaizumis into a fight.)

“I put him in light wash jeans, rolled them up to cuff them because, one, he’s too short for my pants, and two, and this is the most important part,” Tooru prattled on, much to his husband’s chagrin, “rolling your skinny jeans is really in right now and look how long it makes his little legs look!”

“I’m not checking out Suga’s legs,” Hajime deadpanned, doing his damndest to see around his husband (he always hated that Tooru was just a _few_ inches taller than him), “that’s a fucking trap.”

“How is that a trap?” Tooru insisted, shaking his head. “I’m asking you to look and tell me what you think!”

“It’s a trap because I’m not going to say something sexually suggestive about your best friend.” Hajime narrowed his eyes.

Suga had suddenly felt like he shouldn’t be there anymore.

“It’s _not_ a trap because I _asked_ you to, Hajime,” Tooru basically spat. “And I hit on him all the time, so it’s fine! I don’t care!”

“You don’t care because Suga rejects you and he knows it's a joke.”

The hazel in Tooru’s eyes lit up with anger. “Excuse me? And if you hit on him, he’d what, rollover because you’re some hot, thick alpha male?”

Hajime jumped off the couch at that comment, standing nose to nose with his husband (or nearly, rather, due to the height difference, but Suga wasn’t going to point that out). “Where the fuck did you get that idea? It’s _normal_ for you guys to be loving and flirtatious, I accepted that a long time ago. But if I said something about Koushi, it would be gross and come off like sexual harassment and I will _never_ hit on my husband’s best friend, even if you ask me to!” 

“Oh my god, all I wanted was your approval, Hajime!” Tooru blurted out, suddenly sounding a little more emotional that the fight seemed to originally entail. “You can’t formulate an opinion, whether it’s about Suga’s outfit, or the new bedspread I bought, or - or - or ---- if you even want to have a baby with me!”

One of those things was not like the other, and Suga had felt the tension flash across the open-concept living room and settle into his skin; he felt like he had been electrocuted. Were Tooru and Hajime considering having a baby? The taller brunette hadn’t mentioned it, at least not seriously or even lately. Wanting kids was always something on his list, he loved children, if his profession wasn’t proof enough of that.

Hajime’s dark features morphed into anger, before settling and becoming expressionless. “I think this is something we should discuss later. Oikawa.”

Hot tears rolled down Tooru’s cheeks, appearing so fast they had basically materialized. He had never been as good as his husband at managing his emotions. Wiping them away with the back of his hand and sniffling heavily, he turned to Suga. “You look really good, Koushi. Text me after your date,” he instructed mechanically, his voice small and defeated and lacking every bit of fire it had contained before. He leaned down and gave his best friend a kiss on the cheek before turning on his heel, returning back down the hallway where Suga heard the master bedroom door close with a resounding ‘slam’.

“Shit,” Hajime sighed, running a hand through his spiky locks, sighing heavily as the tension released from his stiff shoulders. “Fucking shit.” His face was red, likely from a combination of embarrassment and anger, and his own emerald eyes were just a bit glassy. Suga had never seen Hajime cry before, but he looked pretty close right about now.

“I should go--”

“I’m sorry,” Hajime interrupted, turning to look directly at the ashen blond. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Suga swallowed thickly. He had seen the couple fight plenty of times, Lord knew they were a pro at it. But this seemed a lot heavier. Suga knew he wanted to ask, the question burned in his bones. He wanted to know what was going on with his best friend and their marriage because he cared so much about each of them that his heart felt like it was going to explode when he saw them fight. Suga wanted to be married someday, and he always looked at them with stars in his eyes; he wanted that sense of commitment and familiarity that came with a long-term relationship.

“Tooru wants us to think about adoption,” Hajime explained quietly, voice kept just above a whisper.. “And I told him I wanted to wait a little while longer and think about some things on my own.”

“About adoption?” Suga wondered.

The brunette shook his head. “About kids,” he admitted weakly, letting his eyes fall to the hardwood beneath their feet. 

It wasn’t a secret to Suga that Hajime’s childhood hadn’t been the best; he had shared stories with Suga and Tooru both, ones that featured an alcoholic and abusive mom on top of a dad that was gone more often than not. He longed for stability and routine, but feared the fragility of his own self worth at the same time. 

“Do you worry you won’t be a good dad?” 

Hajime gave him a weak smile and a pat on his upper bicep, the touch cold as ice. “Go have fun on your date, Suga.” While it wasn’t an answer, it actually was, all in the same breath. 

So no, Suga couldn’t have fun on his date. He didn’t feel like having fun. He felt like calling Tooru and inviting him over and having one of those nights where they binged on wine and Pringles and rewatched all of their favorite Nicholas Sparks movies until they were drunk and crying until they fell asleep under the protection of his favorite duvet. 

And, above all else, he was still nervous.

Tooru was supposed to give him one of those world-famous pep talks that made you feel like you could climb Mount Everest with your bare hands and blindfolded because the tall brunette had that effect on people. But instead, he left with dread pooled in his heart and the aforementioned death butterflies in his stomach. And, because he had been kicked out early, it resulted in Suga sitting far too long in his car outside the restaurant, waiting for 7 o’clock or Daichi to roll around, whichever came first.

And from his perch in his little white Ford fusion just across from the restaurant entrance, he saw him: clean-cut in a purple and white pinstripe button-down, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, tucked into a pair of trim khaki pants that accented his ass and those absolutely mouthwatering thighs. Of course, he accessorized his attire with a beautiful, brown leather belt and matching leather shoes.

Okay, so maybe Suga could do this.

The taller man smoothed back his hair before checking his watch, clearly a bit anxious. This prompted Suga to glance down at the time on his car clock: it was only 6:45. Ah, so the man was prompt. This revelation caused the corners of the nurse’s mouth to pull up into a small smile. Fuck, he liked Daichi already. 

He debated for a moment, weighing an invisible list of pros and cons. He could stay in the car a bit longer, avoiding looking too eager or overzealous. Or, he could get out and go spend even more time with the young dad who had captivated his attention for the last two weeks. Considering the former, he opted for the latter out of sheer impatience: he had been celibate two years and he figured he had waited long enough. Not that he was going to put out on the first date or anything like that, but damn, the ball could at least start rolling, couldn’t it?

Stepping out of the vehicle, Suga shut the door car softly, as to not prematurely capture the man’s attention. He eyed Daichi as he carefully approached the front doors of the establishment. The brunette’s attention was fixed at his hands, carefully flexing and unflexing his fingers.

“Hey, Daichi,” Suga greeted, eager to alleviate the anxious tension that was clearly built up in that muscular, firm body. His physique was all the more apparent now that he wasn’t wearing a stiff suit jacket.

Dark, chocolate-colored eyes darted up to meet Suga’s and a broad grin broke out across his sinfully, ruggedly handsome face. Suga didn’t miss Daichi’s gaze as it followed the length of the nurse’s legs once, then twice, before completely making eye contact. Shit, now he would have to thank Tooru for rolling up those already _extremely_ fitted jeans.

“Hi- umm, hello, you look nic-- great. You look really great,” Daichi fumbled with his words as he took a step closer to the ashen blonde, nervously running a hand down the back of his neck, tan skin flush as he approached. 

“Thank you, so do you,” Suga stated as he very flirtatiously smoothed down the collar of the other man’s dress shirt, intentionally letting his fingers linger a little too long on his broad shoulder.

“Ah, thank you.” The scarlet color only deepened as it moved from his face, sprawling down the expanse of his neck before disappearing beneath his collar where Suga liked to imagine it was coloring his broad chest as well. Mentally, he began to wonder: which was more appealing, this man’s bodybuilder chest or his tree trunk legs? The competition was stiff and Suga couldn’t let his mind linger on that too much longer unless he wanted something _else_ to get stiff, too.

“You’re welcome,” the ashen blond said with a smile. “Should we head inside?”

Daichi nodded. “Ah yes, I called this morning and reserved a table. I know it was short notice, but I think I got our name on the list.” 

They had agreed to meet at 7 at the restaurant, not bothering to exchange numbers. Which was much to Suga’s displeasure, if he was being honest. Maybe he could score the young dad’s digits by the end of their date if it went well, and he _did_ intend for it to go well. 

He watched as Daichi held the door for him, holding out a hand, ushering the shorter man inside. Suga gave him a smile as a reward. _Fucking cute_ , he thought, clearly impressed by the polite gesture. Daichi continued to the hostess station, where he gave his name. The young blond girl, probably college-aged, nodded excitedly, promising a table would be free shortly. 

To that, Daichi turned back around, clearly still a bundle of nerves. “They’re gonna go get our table ready,” he explained as if Suga hadn't been within earshot the whole time. 

The nurse smiled, giving a reassuring grin, “sounds good, I’m in no hurry.”

Daichi breathed a small sigh, “oh okay, good deal.”

“You’re gonna like this place, I think.”

Daichi lifted a dark brow curiously. “Oh yeah?”

Suga nodded vigorously. “Yeah, but I mean, it’s a shit place to bring a vegan for a first date.”

The young dad instantly paled, all of the color running from his face as panic swept across his eyes. “I-uhh, shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were vegan--”

While his sputtering was absolutely adorable, Suga felt like a jackass for it. With a soft chuckle, he placed a hand on Daichi’s forearm. He could feel his warmth even through the fabric of the expensive material of his shirt. “No, I’m just kidding. I’m not a vegan but it was worth it to see your face,” he teased, the corners of his eyes creasing as he laughed. 

“Ah,” it was Daichi’s turn to laugh, a little less nervous than before.

Suga decided to change that, clearly not holding onto a shred of the guilt he had a moment before: “But I’m glad you didn’t deny this is a date.”

“Sawamura?” The hostess called and the duo lifted their heads, Daichi’s face a brilliant shade of vermillion while the nurse continued to laugh uncontrollably.

“Ah, yes?” the brunette asked, voice cracking more like a 13-year-old going through puberty and less like a grown man pushing 30.

“Your table is ready!” the woman explained, grabbing two menus and gesturing for the men to follow.

//////

Suga stepped to follow first, a devious grin painted on his normally angelic face. Daichi’s heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. Was this a date? Or was he joking? He hadn’t had a chance to ask for clarification before the hostess had called them over, and his hands felt clammy and sweaty and he was going to fuck this up. 

Yep. He was _definitely_ going to fuck this up. 

He didn’t know how, exactly, but he could feel it in his bones. Call it intuition or a hunch of sorts, but it was bound to happen.

For one, he was already completely overdressed compared to his date(?). The striking, gray-haired beauty had worn an extremely form-fitting pair of skinny jeans, rolled just above the ankle, and coordinated it so perfectly with a long, forest green cardigan that flowed to his knees and a soft, white v-neck underneath. He even wore a white pair of canvas slip-ons, pristine and perfect; just like him.

And what did Daichi wear? Something a bank teller would wear on casual Friday.

Disgusted with himself, Daichi didn’t say another word as they walked to their table, only tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. A date. He was on a date. With a man - no! - an angel, and he was dressed like a damn bank employee.

“Thank you,” the nurse smiled up at him as Daichi pulled out his chair. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to, they were both guys, after all. Would that be offensive? He wasn’t a girl, but that didn’t matter: he was a date(?). And dates deserved to be treated respectfully. Because apparently this was not just two dudes getting steak and Kuroo was right, probably, and seriously, fuck Kuroo when he was right.

“You’re welcome,” Daichi offered as he lowered himself across the table and into his own chair. They had been seated toward the back by the window, giving them a view of the man-made pond just out back behind the restaurant. The whole place was warm, rich and rustic. It was a classy place, but clearly not too upscale. It had original quirks that a chain place didn’t offer without feeling stuffy. It was a solid choice, especially for a first date(?).

“Here are your menus, the server will be by shortly.” The hostess, seemingly picking up what was going on, smiled shyly as she sat the two menus down on the table then disappearing in a stream of giggles.

“So, how was your day?” Suga asked as he picked up the menu. Daichi was thankful that he was engaging in conversation first, because the brunette was at a total loss as to what to say; he was already still flustered from their initial conversation at the door.

“It was, umm, good,” Daichi stated, scolding himself internally for fucking ridiculous stuttering. He was a grown man!! What the hell was going on? ‘Good’? He knew bigger, better words than that! He had an MBA for Christ’s sake. “Uh, how about you?”

Suga thumbed through the menu, looking at it disinterestedly. “It wasn’t bad, kind of a typical Friday. I only had to give out two EpiPens and administer the Heimlich once, so I guess you could say it was an all-around solid day.”

“The Heimlich?!” Daichi exclaimed, shuddering at the thought. “Was the kid okay?”

With a flippant wave of his hand and a small chuckle, the nurse put his date at ease. “Of course he was! I was there!” He beamed bright and radiant over the top of his leatherbound menu. That smile could melt tungsten (which was basically impossible to melt unless thrown directly into the sun, if Daichi remembered his high school chemistry class correctly. But Suga could do it, he was sure.)

“You’re a hero.” There was no sarcasm in that comment, not even in the slightest. He was blown away.

“Tch, nonsense.” The nurse accompanied this comment with a shrug. “Just do me a favor and don’t let Tobio play with Legos while he eats pudding.”

“Should I even ask?”

Suga made a bit of a face. “Well, let’s just say, a parent sent their kid to school with a Lego battleship in his lunchbox as well as a chocolate snack pack. So at lunch, he just kept assembling and reassembling the little thing and a piece fell into his pudding. And the little dude just kept on eating.”

Daichi blinked, stunned. Little boys were trouble, no doubt, not that the soft-spoken Tobio ever did much damage. But he had heard stories from other parents about their sons who were much more boisterous and rambunctious and let’s just say, Daichi was relieved to have a son who liked to read and play quietly and stick to himself. As a single dad, he didn’t know if he could handle anything else.

“Good evening, welcome to Tall Grass Steakhouse! My name is Peter and I’d be happy to take your order.” The waiter that greeted them, Peter, was very tall with sandy blond hair and blazing blue eyes. He sat two ice waters on the table before he held up a pen and paper with a smile slapped across his much-too-handsome, yet incredibly young, face. 

“Peter,” Suga said firmly, folding the menu and lowering it to the table. “I want a nice, juicy steak as fat as my ass, cooked medium. For my sides, I want double mashed potatoes, a house salad with a lot of ranch dressing, and we’ll start with a glass of merlot.” 

Daichi blinked heavily. He was certain his eyebrows were halfway up his face by now because his mouth was hanging open and he couldn’t believe that Suga had said such a --

Laughter interrupted the brunette’s train of thought as Peter doubled over, howling. “Oh my god, Mr. S, that’s _hilarious_!” the young waiter cried, giggling.

_Mr. S?_

Suga responded by laughing even harder, shaking his head. “Hey, how’s the football team up at the high school this year?”

“Great!” Peter smiled; it was boyish, and just a bit lopsided. He was probably quite popular with the ladies, Daichi surmised. “I’m starting QB this year and Meyers is my wide-receiver. Missouri Southern is looking at us both!”

“Hell yeah, it’s your senior year! Missouri Southern is a good school but don’t put all your eggs in one basket, ya hear?” Suga asked, slapping the waiter on his shoulder. The petite nurse must pack more of a punch than he let on, because the young athlete let out a short, stuttered cough at the connection. “I’ll come check out the homecoming game this year, I promise!”

This pledge made Peter’s blue eyes widen. “Yes! And I promise that I won’t twist my ankle and make you run out on the field in the rain to save my sorry ass.”

Suga smiled, scrunching his nose. “It was no issue. That’s what a school nurse is for!”

“Dude,” the boy turned, suddenly addressing Daichi directly, “you don’t even know. This guy was just there watching one of our games my freshman year. I subbed for a few plays on the varsity team and I was so nervous that as soon as I got out there, I slipped on some mud and twisted my ankle. And Mr. S just ran out there and got me all patched up like some kinda superhero.”

“Oh wow,” Daichi’s mouth fell open in surprise, his reaction genuine.

“Shush, stop,” Suga smiled, shaking his head once more. “Stop now and bring me my steak or I won’t come to the game.”

This alerted the boy. “One fat-ass steak for Mr. S - on it!” As Peter turned on his heel to leave, Suga caught the tall boy’s wrist.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Suga’s honey eyes were liquid gold as they shimmered with just a hint of teasing.

“Am I?” The boy seemed to be in serious thought before he shot his head back up. “Oh shi--- I mean, shoot, I need to take your order! I’m so sorry, sir!” He held the pen and paper up once more, ready, staring directly at Daichi.

“Uh, I’ll have a steak too, please. Medium. And I’ll have a side of fries and asparagus. Can I also get a whiskey, neat?”

Peter shook his head in the affirmative, writing everything down with his shaky chicken scratch. Daichi blessed some poor cook in the back for what patience he had to have possessed to be able to decipher that poor act of penmanship. “Okay dope, I’ll have Clarissa bring your drinks since I’m not old enough. But I’ll grab your food soon, so no worries!”

With one final wave from the nurse, the enthusiastic young man disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Daichi sighed and leaned back in his chair - that was _not_ an interaction he had been expecting.

“Sorry about that,” Suga said timidly, taking a shy sip of his water. “Peter is… excitable.”

That was an understatement, he thought, but Daichi gestured the comment away. “It wasn’t a big deal. It was kind of cool to hear a story about you. I feel like I know you better already.”

“Hmm,” Suga hummed. “And I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

That damn heat climbed up in his chest again. He wasn’t usually this way; sure, he hadn’t dated in a while. And he only had really dated one person before, and he married that person, but still. He was a tall, strong, independent dad with a lot to offer and he needed to act like it. He was a catch. He had a great career and a master’s degree and a six-pack - he could definitely flirt with Suga.

Spurred on by his personal pep talk, as smooth as he possibly could, Daichi responded with, “what would you like to know?”

Suga’s eyes flashed then. Long gone were those sweet, caramel candy orbs. Instead, they were replaced with a spark, like a flare from the sun, eager and just a bit mischievous. “Speed round?”

“Uh, oka--” 

And before Daichi could even agree, the rapid-fire started: “Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Favorite TV show?”

“Game of Thrones.”

A gray eyebrow shot up at that comment. “Oh? Tell me, Dai, do you skip the porn parts or do you watch those?”

The heat was back and it was a whole-body flush. Suddenly, a long sleeve button down seemed like a very bad idea. “I, uh--”

“The hesitation means you watch. Don’t worry, I won’t make you elaborate on if you watch the gay or the straight scenes or both.” Daichi thanked whatever god was listening for _that_ bit of graciousness. “Next question: favorite celebrity?”

“Mark Wahlberg.”

“Because he’s hot or because you like action movies about a dude who could literally be from anywhere in the United States and still have a Boston accent?” Suga tilted his head to the side and offered a very discerning look.

“Both?” Daichi squeaked. It wasn’t a sound he had planned on making, but he had made all the same because he just basically admitted he thought a male celebrity was hot and he wasn’t sure how to process that information. However, it was still better than admitting that he totally watched all the gay love scenes in Game of Thrones and scrolled through Instagram during the straight ones.

“Hmm, he doesn’t seem your type.”

Daichi tried to push down his nerves as he asked, “Oh? And what does seem like my type?”

The fire returned, only this time, it was an inferno that set his whole expression ablaze. “Short nurses with gray hair and cute asses.”

“Your drinks, gentlemen,” an older woman approached, placing their alcoholic beverages on the table. Daichi had been saved yet again from sinking into some sort of dark hole of endless embarrassment. “I poured yours a little heavier, Koushi,” she gave a quick wink at the shorter man with a glittered eyelid.

“Bless you, Clarissa,” he said, accepting the drink with a sweet smile.

“No Tooru today?” she asked, stealing a glance at the young dad’s direction.

“I’m afraid I’ve chosen better company for the evening,” Suga replied.

The server laughed; it was nasally and unattractive but still so very genuine. “I’m gonna tell him you said that,” she threatened, her words holding no bite.

“Would you please? Maybe he’ll get mad enough he’ll finally leave me alone.”

“Deal,” she said, giving a curt nod and moving onto the next table.

“You know a lot of people.” It was as much an observation as it was a question. 

Suga shrugged. “It’s a big city, for the midwest, but I’ve lived here my whole life. I know a lot of people.”

“You’re popular.”

“Nah,” he denied, leaning over to take a sip of his wine. Daichi admired the way the red color stained his pretty lips as they parted and he couldn’t stop staring at them as the glass was lowered back to their table. “I just like people, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, suddenly filled with some sort of intense admiration for the man. It swelled in his chest and caused a catch in his throat. He didn’t really deserve to be out with Suga.

“Okay so ask me.”

“Ask you?” Daichi’s attention snapped back up, looking directly at his date.

“Speed round. Ask me.”

“Can I use the same questions?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.” And before Daichi could open his mouth and ask the first one, Suga slyly added, “I’ll just think you’re boring if you do.”

Daichi puffed in reply and took a long drag of his whiskey. He was gonna need more alcohol to survive through this. Not that he hated it, no, quite the opposite. He just couldn’t handle how _much_ he liked it.

“Okay, here it goes,” he said, attempting to sound firm as the spicey alcohol remained hot in his throat. “Favorite musician?”

“Lady Gaga.”

Daichi gagged. “ _What_?”

“What?” Suga feigned being miffed by the comment. “She writes all the gay anthems I could ever want and she’s our Queen. So there’s that.”

“You like pop music?” He did nothing to hide the incredulous tone as it escaped rapidly, searching his brain for some sort of explanation. Pop music? No thank you.

“Oh, and what do you like, huh? Please share with the class your elitist taste in music.”

“The Eagles and Bruce Springsteen. Top two favorites.” 

Suga clicked his tongue. “As to be expected from a beefcake who drinks Maker’s Mark. You probably only like Marky Mark because you want to be him, not because you want to fuck him.” 

“Hey! The Boss is a classic and so is this,” he countered, holding up the near-empty highball glass. “And Mark Wahlberg is a fine actor, okay?”

Their conversation was cut short yet again at the arrival of Peter, all smiles as he handed over plates filled with delicious-looking food, steaming hot, the steak still practically sizzling. “Here you go Mr. S and Mr. S’s friend!” 

“Thank you, Peter,” Suga patted the young man on the arm. (Patted this time, Daichi noticed, because the young man didn’t wince from obvious pain.) “And don’t let Coach Ushijima ride you guys too hard. Just because he’s the Superintendent, that doesn’t make him God.”

“I’ll remember that! Thank you, sir!”

“Good boy,” the nurse waved, “now let me get on with my date.”

“Ah, of course! Enjoy your food!” He looked only a little flushed as he left the table.

“I think he likes you,” Daichi commented, this time the one being sly.

“Oh, does he?” Suga teased, slowly cutting into his steaming steak. Daichi could practically see his mouth watering, eyes the size of saucers at the sight of the pink cut of meat.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t look like your type.” He did his best to keep his voice coy as he took a fry and popped it into his mouth.

“He doesn’t?” 

“Nope.”

Suga slipped a slice of steak in between his teeth, biting on the tines ever so slightly as he pulled it off the utensil. “Enlighten me then, please.”

“I think you like short brunettes who are also kind of idiots.”

“You’re not that short,” he snorted.

“Shorter than the kid who calls you ‘Mr. S’,” he laughed.

“Still taller than me, so there’s that.”

“I like how you didn’t deny that I was an idiot.”

“I like ‘em dumb,” Suga said through another large sip of wine. “It makes ‘em easier to fall for my charms.”

To this, Daichi laughed so hard he nearly choked. There wasn’t a single doubt that this man was charming. He was so charming, in fact, that Daichi felt his own personality constantly teetering between being a stumbling, stuttering mess and an overconfident, hunky macho man because such a beautiful creature had graced his presence and he couldn’t readily decide what to do with himself. His brain was in a constant battle of short-circuiting and rewiring every time the gorgeous, angelic man spoke or fluttered his lashes or licked his pretty lips. And to Daichi, this brain fry was every bit worth it.

When their laughter died down, the pair focused on their food, making small talk about their lives, continuing to get to know each other. Suga had insisted on apologizing for his best friend’s shenanigans at the open house, to which Daichi attempted to make him feel better. “You have no idea what _my_ best friend is capable of,” he assured the smaller man, following that comment up by giving him a brief rundown on one Tetsurou Kuroo. Upon hearing it, they both agreed that it would be best if Kuroo and Tooru never met.

“Even their names sound kinda similar, it’s a bit scary,” Suga stated as he finished the last bite of his steak. Daichi was more impressed than put off. In fact, it was incredibly sexy to find someone so willing to be himself.

“Yeah, they do,” he grimaced. Putting those two in a room would be a recipe for disaster.

“So I hate to change the topic, but I do have a specific question for you, Daichi, if it’s not too terribly personal,” Suga stated finally, sipping slowly on his second glass of wine. 

Daichi knew where this was going; the sudden shift in the mood was tangible and palpable and proved to be quite heavy, a tell-tale sign of what was to come. He knew what the ashen blond was going to ask him, and he was prepared for the question. Not entirely, but at least a little bit, enough to be vague. He would reveal more later, down the road, when he had more time to process what the answer would mean for Suga once he knew what Suga meant to him. But for now, he could at least offer a minor explanation.

He reclined back in his seat, schooling his features. “Okay,” Daichi said plainly, hoping his reply didn’t come out too nervous or shaky. 

“I’m only asking this not because it’s my business, but before… well…” Up to this point, from Daichi’s perspective, Suga was a hard egg to crack. He was composed, quick-witted, ready to throw and receive punches. He had an impregnable barrier around him, wearing a mask that was filled with life and curiosity and warmth. But here, with the difficult question lulling on his tongue, he seemed insecure, hesitant to say what was on his mind.

“I just wanted to know, are you still with Tobio’s m--”

The sentence was cut short by the dramatic ringtone of Daichi’s cellphone, the musical tune penetrating through the tension, snapping the brunette up to attention.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” he apologized, holding up one hand as the other fished into his pants pocket to retrieve the offending device. “I didn’t want to silence it in case something came up at the sleepover.”

“I understand,” Suga stated earnestly, releasing a shaky breath.

Daichi finally retrieved his phone but felt the color run from his face as he saw the name on the screen: it was Shoyou’s mom. “Hello?” he asked, the greeting heavy with concern.

“Hello, Daichi, this Sakura, Shoyou’s mom?”

“Yes, hello Sakura. Is everything okay?” Daichi rolled his wrist over to look at his watch. It was a little past 10. Had they really already been at dinner for over three hours? Tobio was at a sleepover, sure, but he had intended to be home by now in case something happened.

“Well the boys fell asleep in Shoyou’s room a couple of hours ago, but Tobio said he woke up with a nightmare and he wanted his dad. I’m so sorry, Daichi, but I think he would be more comfortable at home tonight. Is that okay?” The woman’s tone was very sweet and warm, almost apologetic. “He is welcome here any time, and we can always try again. He is very polite and we just adore him, I just think tonight didn’t pan out.”

Daichi had already begun sliding out of the booth, phone pressed firmly to his ear. He glanced up at his date who met his gaze, laced with concern and something akin to sympathy. “No I understand. I am on my way.”

“Oh hang on, Tobio wants to talk to you, one moment.” A brief pause came over the line as the phone was passed to his son.

“Daddy?” came the sleepy, bleary voice of Tobio, rough like sand-paper, almost as if he had been crying.

“Yeah buddy, I’m here. I’m gonna come pick you up.” He felt his heart shattering.

“Daddy, I really like it here,” Tobio persisted, “but I think I just want to go home with you right now.”

“Sure, sweetheart, I’m leaving now alright?”

“Alright.”

“What does a brave boy do?” Daichi asked, keeping his tone light and hopeful.

“Brave boys say how they feel.”

“And how does my brave boy feel right now?”

“Not so brave.”

His insides constricted at the admission. “And that’s okay. I’ll see you very soon, alright? I love you.”

“I love you too, daddy.”

With that comment, Daichi pressed the red button on his phone. Letting out a heavy sigh, “shit, Suga, I’m so sorry.”

The blond gave an affectionate smile, one laced with understanding and remorse. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Daichi stated as he rifled through his wallet, producing a large wad of cash he hoped was enough to cover the ticket.

“No gift card?” Suga teased lightly in an attempt to lift the mood once more.

“I, uh, forgot it.”

Daichi was not a smooth liar though, because Suga immediately said, “you thought paying for dinner on the first date with a gift card you won would look super tacky, didn’t you?”

Daichi gave a defeated sigh. “You saw through that?”

“Clear as glass, my friend.” That fighting, flirty spirit returned when he added, “I’m just glad you also thought this was a date.”

“I could say the same thing.” Daichi sat the money on the table, this time, rising completely to his feet. “I have to go pick up Tobio though, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Suga graciously said. “Is everything okay?”

Giving a small nod, hoping the heartbreak wasn’t written on his face, he explained, “yeah he just had a nightmare and wants his dad.”

“You’re a good father, Daichi.” And the way Suga said those words, with so much affection and sincerity, the young dad almost felt inclined to believe him. Because as he bid Suga could night with a simple hug, and a promise to catch up to him soon, he really didn’t feel like he was good at much of anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, let me just say this: your comments and kudos have blown me away!! I am seriously just overjoyed. Thank you so much! I hope you continue to comment because they really motivate me and absolutely make my day.
> 
> Again, I don't have a Beta editor or anything, but I try to review each chapter 5 or 6 times before I post it, then usually at least three times after I do. If anything has a typo or mistake, please bear with me! :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please keep in mind, we are working with an established IwaOi here, something I have always wanted to do, and while they are a secondary couple, they go through things I want to explore as well. I know there is some angst and a bit of drama in this chapter, but all for the sake of a good plot and even better character development. Hang in there for our boys!!
> 
> I will see you in two weeks with an update!! Lots of love!!
> 
> PS, did you catch the name of Tobio's mom?


	5. Blue Hydrangeas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter gets a little angsty. Sorry about that. It's all for the greater good of our boys and you know, what is a story without a little conflict? I promise I don't write anything without a happy ending, but the journey is bound to be rocky from time to time. More notes at the bottom.
> 
>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** several homosexual slurs are used in this chapter, fair warning.

The house was eerie when it was this quiet. Hajime couldn’t remember the last time it felt like this: isolated, lonesome, a place that wasn’t warm. In fact, he hadn’t felt this way in almost ten years, not since Tooru crashed into his life like an unrelenting wave, his husband so filled with love and life, a spark that couldn’t be doused.

It was strange. They had had their issues and fights before, both men hard-headed and stubborn and sharp-witted, cutting each other to the core in the midst of their most ferocious and serious arguments. But this was different. Tooru had never once been  _ silent _ . Hajime didn’t even know he was capable of such a thing.

It was the utter lack of sound that disturbed the darker brunette the most. If his husband was mad and screaming and crying, at least he was doing  _ something _ . It wasn’t the best or healthiest form of communication, sure, but it was better than nothing. He never once thought he would fear the absence of an argument more than the argument itself. 

He knew where Tooru was, where he always went during a fight: their home office that doubled as a personal library, the room filled with books on aliens and sports and finance and education, a total hodge-podge of the couple’s hobbies and work. 

Sharing a home office had been Tooru’s idea when they bought the house. “Iwa-chan, we can work together on the weekends when we need to! Won’t that be fun?” There had only been room for one desk, but it didn’t matter. Usually, Tooru would sit in the window seat on his laptop, and Hajime would sit at the desktop, both meticulously working away. Tooru didn’t know this, but Hajime enjoyed stealing glances over the top of the monitor at the taller man, admiring the way his glasses fell on his slender nose and the absolutely adorable way he stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration. 

Before taking on the principal’s role, he was busy writing lesson plans for his kids, occasionally voicing his thoughts aloud: ‘ _ god, physics is so hard, even at the 5th-grade level _ ’ or ‘ _ I hope they’ll like this book we’re going to start in class tomorrow _ ’. His thoughts were always on the kids, ‘his’ kids, as he liked to call them. “They’re my children for a year, Hajime. I have to do everything I can for them, because I just get one year.”

It wasn’t new information that Tooru wanted to adopt a child. He had frequently talked about it, even back in college when they were in that weird limbo of ‘maybe we’re dating or maybe we’re just fucking on the dining room table though we’re definitely not fucking anyone else’ stage, caught somewhere between a steady hookup and an actual relationship. Tooru had always expressed a desire to be an educator. His passion was clear even back then- he wanted to teach children. He loved them dearly and wanted to be a role model for the next generation. It was only natural that this translated into a desire to be a father, to have a child of his own.

So why was it a surprise when the slender brunette had brought it up at dinner earlier that week? “Iwa-chan, I think we should start talking about adopting a baby,” he had said as he set down a perfect meatloaf on the table, untying his galaxy print apron.

“Now?” was all Hajime could think to ask, giving his husband a concerned look, unable to keep the shock from his tone. Now? But so many changes were going on. He had just hired a new second in command at work. Tooru had just moved into the principal’s position. They had only been married for two months. Granted, they had been engaged for over three years and together almost ten, but still.

“Well, we need to start the process early,” Tooru explained, the smile that had been plastered on his face when he first broached the topic wavering a little in the wake of his husband’s apprehension. He busied his hands with setting the table and serving the meal, eyes cast down at his task. “Adoptions can take years, babe, especially as a gay couple. If we start the paperwork this year, maybe we can have a baby in the next few.” 

“Oh,” was all the darker brunette could think to say, which clearly was the wrong answer.

“You don’t want a baby,” Tooru whispered darkly as he stiffened, froze in place next to the dining table, the sentence caught in his throat. It wasn’t a question nor a statement: it was an accusation.

“No - it’s not that, I just--” 

“You never once said that you didn’t, Hajime!” There was a shaky quality to his retort, an unmistakable trembling as adrenaline shot through his body. “In all the years we have been together, you never once said to me you didn’t want kids, even after all the talking I did about a family.”

“And never once did I say I wanted one either, Tooru!” he retorted, realizing only as they left his mouth, those weren’t the words he meant to say. 

In a move that Hajime wasn’t expecting, Tooru slammed a floral print dinner plate so hard against their kitchen table that it cracked, the porcelain sprawling like the fault line in their marriage, a fissure that once opened would be extremely difficult to close.

The look painted on his husband’s face would continue to haunt Hajime, the usually handsome and bright features morphed into something sinister, his hazel eyes narrowed into a death glare but still wet with unshed tears. It was only then that Hajime looked down to see that Tooru’s hand was bleeding, a small cut from the fractured part of the plate.

Hajime stood, his hand outstretched to capture the injured appendage, but instead, Tooru snapped it to himself, as if he had been bitten. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” His voice came out cold, venom sewn into each syllable. 

“Tooru--”

“Enjoy your meal, Hajime. I know it’s your favorite.” And with that, the lanky brunette turned on his heel and stormed down the hall. If his husband’s wounded facial expression wasn’t bound to leave Hajime riddled with guilt, his hollow sobs as he fled the kitchen certainly would.

That had been five days ago, and while the dust had settled a little, Hajime had slept on the couch every night. Tooru hadn’t asked him to, or even told him to, it just didn’t feel right sleeping next to his husband while the anxiety and hurt still permeated the air. Hajime had somehow managed to fuck it up even further when Suga came over on Friday night and in an attempt to prevent the fight from escalating even more, he only exacerbated the situation. 

The married couple hadn’t spoken since. Hajime went for runs, met up with Hanamaki and Mattsun at the Y for basketball, reviewed account notes for the upcoming yearly audit at work. But otherwise, the pair passed each other like ships in the night, unspeaking and cold, never acknowledging the other.

On Sundays, Tooru would usually go running with Suga, and when he would return, Hajime would have their brunch spread prepared. Sometimes it was a build-your-own waffle bar, or bacon and eggs, or on occasion, even breakfast burritos. But not this Sunday. Sure, Tooru still went running, but when he returned, the kitchen was empty, Hajime curled up on the sofa instead, watching the pre-interviews for the NFL games scheduled to start later that afternoon. 

Hajime watched his husband closely with a wayward side-eye, trying his damndest not to be too obvious. Sure, he loved sports, and watching them on TV usually composed a better part of his Sunday, but he loved his husband more. Honestly, he wasn’t even really paying attention to what the two analysts were discussing, the volume turned down low enough so that he could pay close attention to the subtle noises Tooru made.

The open floor plan of their home allowed for Hajime to hear one of the kitchen cabinets opening, followed by the gentle clinking of ceramic mugs. He didn’t need a crystal ball to know what was next, the cathartic whir of the microwave confirming that Tooru was indeed making tea, something he often did, a remedy to soothe frayed and frazzled nerves.

A few near-silent moments passed before the ‘beep’ of the microwave indicated that Tooru’s tea was done, the noise sounding like an atomic bomb in an otherwise quiet house. From there, it carried on like the softest of orchestras: the faint clinking of a metal spoon around the interior of a mug as his husband stirred his beverage, the quick rush of water into the sink as Tooru rinsed off said utensil, and then, finally, the light padding of stocking feet as he disappeared out of the room and down the hallway.

That’s where he found himself now, pinching his eyes closed and leaning back against the headrest of the sofa, all the things he wanted to say swirling in his head. It felt cloudy, heavy, bogging him down. Talking was never his strong suit, at least, not about his feelings. He could be quick-witted and sharp, but that’s not what this situation called for. It called for a delicacy and diplomacy Hajime wasn’t sure he possessed. 

Rising to his feet, he made his way down the hall, tracing the path his husband had just made. Sure enough, the tall brunette was perched at their desktop computer, glasses positioned on his angular face, scrolling through a webpage with one hand, a mug clasped gingerly in the other. He hadn’t showered right away, which was odd. Usually, Tooru got sweaty on the trails and was insistent about freshening up and changing out of his athletic gear. Hajime wasn’t sure if it was a seduction tactic, but if it was, it was working. It wasn’t healthy, but sometimes, sex was a weapon in their relationship. Or perhaps a tool, depending out how one looked at it. Either way, it was a language they both spoke, Hajime completely emotionally attuned to Tooru when they made love and vice versa.

Maybe it was because they had gone over a week without sex, which was an eternity for the two of them, usually only going 2 or 3 days tops. But Hajime was really beginning to feel the effects of the dry spell even worse as he stared down at his husband, running shorts suction-cupped like spandex around his trim thighs and his thin, racer-back tank top clinging to him like a second skin. Tooru even smelled masculine, like the sweat and earth and rugged frustration. Hajime couldn’t stifle the thought that if they could biologically make children, they would probably already have a hundred by now. 

“How was your run?” Hajime asked, leaning against the entryway of the office, doing his best to keep his voice deep and manly because it was definitely not at all cracking under the idea of Tooru bent over the desk that centered the room. Hajime knew he should be more afraid of himself and how he acted when they got like this, the sheer carnal calls of angry passion swelling his bones. 

“Fine,” came the terse reply, hazel eyes not even lifting to meet Hajime’s hyper-focused stare.

“How was Suga’s date?” Hajime pressed, folding his arms over his broad chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt tightening around his thick biceps.  _ Please notice how big my arms look right now _ , he thought in sheer desperation. Make-up sex with his husband was totally, definitely a thing. Where words failed Hajime, he knew he could use his body to compensate. He knew it was reckless and stupid and probably even a bit brutish, but he was so lost. He was simply tired of seeing the love of his life so reserved and so unlike himself, but what rattled him even more was the realization that he didn’t have the faintest idea of what to do about it. If he could use sex, that  _ tool _ , maybe they could communicate that way.

“Fine.” The word was repeated in the same annoyed tone. It made Hajime’s skin crawl.

“Tooru, can we talk about this?” His question harbored apprehension, uncertainty, fear of what was next. He was shit at talking, but here went nothing, all the cards on the table.

“About what?” Tooru deadpanned, finally lowering his mug to the desk and turning slowly in the office chair, facing his husband head-on. “What is there to discuss, Hajime?”

“It’s weird when you call me that.” 

“It’s your name,” Tooru replied coolly, ice dripping from every word. 

“What happened to ‘Iwa-chan’?”

“You don’t deserve to be called that right now.”

Hajime blinked, unfolding his arms, taken completely aback. What? “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Tooru hissed through clenched teeth, “that Iwa-chan is the version of my husband who listens and communicates and gives a shit about me, and Hajime is just some dude on the university’s basketball team I fucked in college.”

“So that’s what I am now, then? Just some dude who lives in your house and you fuck?”

“Please, we’ve been together for almost ten years,” venom crammed in each syllable as he spoke, “I know what you’re after right now if that lecherous look you’re giving me is any indication. That’s how Hajime looked at me, not how Iwa-chan looks at me.”

“What the fuck are you even on about?” The dark brunette could feel his face heating up, anger flooding through his bloodstream. “So what, Tooru, you’re hot, okay? I like looking at you.  _ You  _ like that I like looking at you because you’re the most vapid, self-centered person who ever lived. You thrive on the fact that I can’t take my eyes off of you, not even when I’m this fucking pissed!”

This fiery statement prompted the taller man to stand, the only physical advantage he had over his husband. Hajime was broader in the chest, with pythons for arms and tree-trunks for legs. His own femininity always bothered Tooru, always a sore spot, so critical of his more slender, fairer attributes. But those three measly inches he had on Hajime felt more like three feet when Tooru stood at full height and paired it with that dejected, wrathful expression. “Excuse me?” he snarled, pink upper lip curling with sheer rage.

“You heard me,” Hajime all but growled in return, taking a step closer so that the couple was almost chest-to-chest, the shorter of the two looking up through his thick, dark lashes, emerald eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re selfish, Tooru. You fucking meddle in everyone else’s shit all the time. You walk around like you’re God’s gift to man with that shitty arrogant expression on your face, nose high in the air. And above all else, you even have the balls to act like you’re doing all of  _ us _ a favor by merely existing.” 

The floodgates were opened now, Hajime sucking a deep breath before he delivered the final blow. If they were gonna fight, they may as well make it a blow out. “And what is just so god damn ridiculous, the icing on the cake, is the fact you think that me not wanting a baby right now has even the  _ slightest _ thing to do with YOU! Because it doesn’t, it’s not about you, Tooru, as fucking absolutely ridiculous of a notion that might be to you. Jesus, even Suga figured it out in two whole minutes. I would love to have a baby with you, Tooru, I really would. If you had a uterus I would stuff you full of a thousand of them because I think you would be the world’s most wonderful parent.” Somewhere, from some deep place in his heart, tears found their way to prick the very corners of his green eyes, turning them to shimmering sea glass. 

“But it’s me, babe,” his words liquefied in his mouth as he spoke, his throat suddenly tight, his breathing staggered, whatever venom had existed before quickly melting away. He brought a hand to his chest, clutching at the front of his own t-shirt. “It’s fucking  _ me _ , Tooru,  _ fuck _ ! How do you know that I won’t be a piece of shit like them, huh? What the fuck do I know about being a dad?” He could do nothing to govern the cruel, telling sob that left his chest, stifling his airway, hindering him from continuing. His whole body felt limp and weak as he buried his face into his hands, an attempt to hide the shameful tears that were now cascading down his face. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Tooru. I’m such a piece of shit.”

“Iwa-chan…” Had Hajiime’s face not been covered by his own heavy hands, he would have seen the sheer look of heartbreak his husband wore, Tooru’s own tears bubbling up in his hazel eyes.

But what he didn’t miss was the long, slender arms that snaked around his hunched shoulders, pulling him into a familiar embrace, a longing, loving hold that felt like home. Tooru was the only thing that had ever felt like home to him in all of his life.

Hajime had considered himself lucky, so thankful that he was good at a sport that afforded him an athletic scholarship, a way to escape the hellish nightmare of his childhood home. He felt lucky that he met Tooru, a beautiful, prideful creature that despite his pedigree, didn’t judge Hajime’s background or look down on him. Instead, he accepted him for all that he was: a complicated, broken man.

They both were, at the end of the day, just two people trying their best to wade through a lifetime of insecurities and self-doubt, all while battling a world that thought it should be illegal for them to find love in one another. Nothing felt ugly about their love, not right here, not holding each other as if for dear life. 

“Iwa-chan, I’m so sorry,” Tooru sobbed in return as he smoothed a hand over the prickly, dark locks at the nape of his husband’s neck. “I’m so sorry, I’m so selfish.” The apology came out mangled, mutilated, fragmented, barely audible, and whisper-quiet.

Hajime only continued to cry into Tooru’s compression top, knowing full well that this moment of shared vulnerability didn’t completely absolve their issues, and that there were still things that needed to be discussed, but it made him feel like his husband wasn’t going to leave, that he would stay and listen, should Hajime truly find the courage to speak. 

\-----------

Blue hydrangeas.

They were unexpected, but not unwelcome, the arrangement brightening his otherwise abysmal desk, the surface a complete and utter shit show of unfiled paperwork, notes from the most recent hearing tests, and, for whatever reason that was truly a mystery to Suga, a small pile of Snickers bar wrappers. (He may or may not have spent a very ludicrous amount of quarters at the vending machine in the teacher’s lounge. It wasn’t really a mystery, but let’s just say, ‘Denial’ isn’t just a river in Eygpt.)

Suga blinked down at flowers, gently running his fingers over the tips of the soft petals, enjoying the sweet fragrance that permeated the air as he did so. The ashen blonde hadn’t expected the flowers at all, honestly. But his initial assessment of the young dad totally told him that Daichi gave off ‘a dozen long stem roses’ vibes, a textbook attribute of a hopeless romantic. Which Daichi was, he could totally tell. 

He could stare at the bouquet all day, but the ringing of his work phone reminded him that he was indeed on the clock. “Nurse’s office,” he deadpanned into the handset, still staring down at the complete anomaly sitting on his desk.

“ _ Suga-chan! _ ” came the shrill, absolutely unmistakable call of his best friend. “Suga, listen to me. I have to be in a Zoom meeting with that shitty Ushiwaka in like,  _ four minutes _ , which gives you just enough time to confirm if that total loudmouth Janice is speaking with an ounce of truth when she says that a bouquet of flowers was just delivered to your office.”

“You really shouldn’t call your boss ‘shitty’, Tooru.”

“That is hardly the issue here, Koushi!” Suga hid a chuckle behind his hand. It was Monday yet again, and Tooru had been off their entire run yesterday, insisting that he had nothing to discuss regarding ‘Baby-gate’, as it was so dubbed. Suga was quick to point out that something labeled as a derivative to one of the nation’s most notorious scandals was usually a noteworthy conversation piece, but Tooru only replied with a taunting ‘shut up and keep up’ before using his long legs to his advantage as he outran the school nurse. 

“What? I mean, Ushijima’s kinda blunt, but he’s a good superintendent.”

“Oh my god, Suga, stop! Just answer the question. Did you get flowers today, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay thank you, jeez, was that so damn hard?” he sighed. “And are they from Daichi? Yes or no.”

“I don’t know.”

A noise came over the line that could only be described as a disgruntled choke. “What do you mean,’  _ you don’t know _ ’.”

“I haven’t opened the card.” It wasn’t a lie, he hadn’t opened the card yet, he was just only mildly sure that the flowers were from Daichi, his guess made by using good ole fashioned deductive reasoning. Who else would send him flowers to work on a Monday morning?

“Well, why not?”

Before Suga could explain that he simply was too taken aback to remember to open the little white envelope attached to the bouquet, the unmistakable chime of a Zoom call came from Tooru’s end, followed immediately by an expletive. “Shit, that’s Ushiwaka. Open your card and we’ll discuss this at lunch!” 

That was the last thing Suga heard before the line went dead.

It was his turn to sigh as he set the handset back in its cradle, bringing his hands nervously through his gray hair. He  _ knew _ those flowers were from Daichi, he would bet his whole life savings on it. But for some reason, he was still nervous to open the card and find out for sure. 

He had spent the entirety of his weekend mulling over every detail of their date, scrutinizing every conversation, every shy and boyish look. All in all, Daichi was still very much a mystery. They knocked the first date stuff out of the way relatively quick, gaining shallow, surface-level intel on one another. But there was still so much Suga didn’t know, and it terrified him how very badly he wanted to learn it all. 

Suga’s past relationships had been… less than appealing. He waited until moving to college to come out of the closet, as growing up in the midwest wasn’t the most LGBT+ friendly of places. His best friend Tooru, however, had been a bonafide, self-proclaimed ‘Queen’ since freshman year. The spunky brunette received a lot of backlash and bullying and hate, and Suga always admired his dear friend’s bravery. And Suga always looked toward Tooru for guidance, the taller man never leading him astray.  _ ‘When it’s your time to come out, you’ll shine, but until then, just keep being sparkly in the closet!’  _ That was Tooru’s words of advice for the 16-year-old Suga, who sported braces and blemishes and a cowlick he could never gel down.

But when Suga bloomed, he  _ blossomed _ . He had always been secretly jealous of Tooru and his natural sex-appeal and charisma. But when a 19-year-old Suga debuted his sophomore year of college, it was game over. Long gone were the baby fat and braces, instead, they were replaced with a slender, sexy track-star physique and a million-dollar smile.

And he, admittedly, went a little wild. He never lacked in his studies, but the experimentation, the anonymous sex, the heated make outs and blow-jobs in the upstairs bathrooms of house parties and backseats of shitty cars eventually lead Suga to an abusive monster, a very first boyfriend for the record books. 

Gavin was trash. So much so, he was hardly worth mentioning. Suga used to feel so stupid for having a textbook jealous, total dumpster fire of an ex-boyfriend. The straight dude who ‘made an exception’ for Suga. How pitiful he felt in his younger years.

Some small part of Suga worried it was happening again, that he was chasing a straight guy. Daichi had a kid, so he couldn’t be ‘ _ that _ ’ gay, as Tooru had so lovingly put it. But while he usually guarded his heart to make sure that history didn’t repeat itself, he would be lying if he said this didn’t feel completely different. And sure, maybe he didn’t know Daichi’s background or just how Tobio came into the picture, but he would, eventually. When it was his time to know, Daichi would tell him, and he respected that.

_ Deep breath, Koushi _ , he told himself, rolling the little envelope over to pull out a little card. 

_ Suga, _

_ I had the best time on our date. I hope there’s a second. _

_ ~ D.S --. (415-555-0000) _

“Holy shit,” he breathed out loud, thankful he was very much alone in his office. “Is this his phone number?”

\---------

“Okay, you gotta tip your head back, babe,” Daichi instructed, holding up a partially full plastic cup of water.

“No!” came the grumpy retort, the little brunette making his best face of defiance. “I don’t wanna get soap in my eyes!”

The young dad sighed, feeling just a little exasperated. “Tobi, it won’t get in your eyes if you tilt your head back.” 

Bath time was either one of two things: on a rare occasion, it was a peaceful little endeavor that got his son clean and relaxed and ready for bedtime. But the majority of the time, like tonight, it was a fight. Tobio, for being a quiet child, was very strong-willed and had a lot of fight when the occasion so called. He could be a bit moody and disobedient, sure, but it was his idiosyncrasies that took the cake. The therapist said it was normal, especially after experiencing a touchstone death at such a young age. And God only knew Daichi felt every piece of that, too.

“I just wanna play with my ducks,” Tobio explained, holding a rubber duck in each hand, one yellow, one blue.

Daichi ran a damp hand through his own black hair, trying to calm himself down. It had been a rough day at work - he had the explicit joy of handling an exceptionally difficult client. The guy was being such a dick, so mean that it made poor Asahi tremble and nearly cry. The worst part of the whole ordeal was the fact that the client’s concern was caused by a discrepancy made by the previous DCFO. Daichi had a feeling that what he experienced today was only going to keep happening until he personally had a chance to get his hands on every single account that had been rolled over to his care.

But truly, the worst part of his whole shitty Monday was the fact that he hadn’t heard from Suga yet, despite sending him flowers and enclosing his phone number in the card. He was so certain that they both had a good time, despite the awkward bumps along the way. While he couldn’t know for certain, Daichi was willing to guess that Suga’s hesitation was probably coming from the fact that the young dad had been unable to answer the ashen blonde’s final question of the night:  _ are you still with Tobio’s mom? _

“I know you want to play with your ducks, buddy, and you still can. But I just gotta rinse your hair real quick.” Daichi knew his voice sounded pleading, but he couldn’t do a damn thing to mask it.

Tobio dunked his two ducks underwater, holding them down for a brief moment only to release them, sharp blue eyes watching closely as they sprang back up, breaching the water’s surface. Reluctantly, his tiny head tilted back and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Before his son could change his mind, Daichi used his left hand to create an ‘eye shield’, positioning it like a firm salute across Tobio’s forehead while the other hand titled a cup of warm water, washing away the lingering suds.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Mmm-mm,” the boy hummed, shaking his head a little. He immediately returned to dunking his ducks, making little quacking noises to accompany his motions. Daichi scrunched his nose and laughed. Sure, his day at work may have been shit and sure, Suga hadn’t texted him yet or acknowledged Daichi’s less-than-subtle attempt at romance, but so what? None of that mattered, not when Tobio was right here. The dark-haired little boy consumed his world and made him complete. Anything else good that got handed to him was merely extra: life with Tobio would always be more than enough.

“Are you ready to get out?” Daichi asked his son after stealing a glance at the white analog clock hanging above the medicine cabinet. It was almost 8 o’clock, and a certain little boy needed to get laid down soon, otherwise, he would be a total bear to wake up in the morning.

“Can I have a glass of milk?” 

“Of course you can,” the dad said, rising from his kneeling position by the tub. (He cursed himself secretly, there was no way he should have been kneeling that long, his right knee screaming from his old football injury.) He grabbed his son’s favorite towel, a giraffe themed one with a little hood adorned with faux ears and horns and was completely covered in the unique animal print. 

Tobio stood in the bath, pulling the plug before stepping out and into the little towel. Daichi rubbed the hood part over his dark hair, trying to dry it. “Okay, I’m trusting you to be a big boy and finish drying off. When you’re done, you need to put on your pj’s and then you can come have a glass of milk. Sound good?”

Tobio gave an affirmative nod. “Yep, sounds good, daddy!”

“And what do we do with the towel when we’re done?” Daichi cocked a concerned eyebrow, meeting his son’s gaze.

“We don’t leave it on our bedroom floor.”

“Where do we put in instead?” Daichi was pretty sure it took him a whole week to get the moldy, mildew smell out of the gray carpet in Tobio’s room the last time the little boy ‘accidentally forgot’ to hang his towel back up in the bathroom.

Tobio gave a little huff, but he answered earnestly: “we put it on the special hook in the bathroom.” He lifted a tiny finger to point at the silver hook hanging just below the light-switch, the perfect height for the six-year-old.

“Good job,” Daichi praised, leaning down to kiss the top of the giraffe hood. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes.”

Daichi turned and left the bathroom, making his way down the hall to the kitchen. He ran through a short list in his head as he walked: get Tobio some milk, hop on his laptop and pay his cell phone bill, make sure what’s in the washer makes it to the dryer, look up reviews for a humidifier to put in Tobio’s room to help with his allergies, and ---

And his train of thought stopped when he heard his cell phone buzzing wildly on the countertop. A phone call? Without thinking, Daichi lunged toward the device, using his thumb to swipe the green button, not bothering to glance at the screen.

“Hello?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound deep and cool.

“There you fucking are.”

Daichi’s blood ran cold. He could feel the color rapidly leave his face as his spine stiffened. ‘ _ How _ ?’ he asked himself. There was no way. This couldn’t be happening.

“Thought you could just flee the state with my nephew and think I wouldn’t have shit to say about it, huh?”

How he wished with every fiber of his being that the fist he was unconsciously making next to his leg could connect through the fucker’s face on the other side of the phone. “I’m hanging up, Sato. Have a nice life.”

“Woah there, big guy. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The dark, deep voice on the other side came out the way it always had: aggressive, overbearing, sinister, ruthless.

“And why the fuck not?” 

“Give me my sister’s ashes.”

“Fuck you,” Daichi growled, hand going white with how tightly he was clutching his phone. He wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked the screen with how much sheer rage he was pouring into his grip.

“Listen,  _ faggot _ ,” Sato seethed, his tone practically oozing disdain, “give me Yui’s ashes and let me see Tobio. You owe me that much, you little queer bitch. You don’t deserve to keep them.”

“She hated you, Sato. And I hate you, too. And I will make damn sure you never get to see a picture of Tobio, let alone ever meet him. I kept those ashes for my son -  _ our  _ son - to have when he’s older.” Daichi felt like jumping out of his skin, the anger boiling in his stomach, heating him from the inside out. He could kill this total asshole, snap his neck in two. He nearly had once back in high school, and how he wished he would have gone through with it. “If you come anywhere near either of us, I’ll end you.”

It was a little noise, so small that Daichi was surprised he heard it. Maybe he had just been too acclimated to it, ears trained to pick up even the slightest distress call from his son. But the muffled, strained sob, so high-pitched and heartbreaking split Daichi in two. 

“D-daddy?” he whimpered, voice shaking as tears wet his cobalt blue eyes.

Daichi silenced the expletives and threats that continued to stream over the other end of the phone by smashing the end button before tossing it haphazardly back on the countertop. No, no, no. This could not be happening right now. This was something Tobio was never supposed to see, or hear, or witness. 

“Buddy, wait!” he called, but it was too late: Tobio was already halfway down the hall, little hiccups and cries growing louder with each step.

\------

_ You can do this, Suga _ .

His day had spiraled since receiving the flowers. It was his first mandated report of the year, something he dreaded far above anything else in his line of work. It was a long day on the phone with a social worker, on top of a report he had to build and present to both Tooru and their superintendent, Wakatoshi. The two administrators may have been rivals back in the day, but they always seemed to set their differences aside for the greater good of the kids.

Suga practically sprinted home and onto the couch, foregoing the glass and drinking straight from the half-full bottle of Moscato he had in the fridge. He thought it would help soothe the anxiety and stress that had built up in his back and shoulders, but it didn’t. No, today was something that not even the combination of wine and a marathon of  _ The Vampire Diaries _ could cure.

He needed to text Daichi and thank him for the gesture. He also needed to call Tooru and try, once again, to get to the bottom of what was going on with him and Iwa-chan. Which meant he was stuck between two very difficult tasks. He honestly wasn’t sure which was the lesser of the two evils.

On one hand, he risked causing his anxiety to double by reaching out to what was probably the man of his dreams. And other the other, he knew that getting Tooru to talk about something he really didn’t want to was sort of like pulling teeth or an act of Congress: super shitty. 

Deciding that giving Tooru some space was probably his best bet, for now, he opted to take the former route. He took a deep breath and pulled his phone from the pocket of his scrubs because no, he hadn’t been bothered to change out of his work uniform yet. He scrolled down to the contact where he had saved the new number.

Suga thought hard for a long moment before finally typing out a message. He deleted it, retyped it, and stared. He did this several more times until after about twenty minutes, he composed the text that, unbeknownst to him at the time, would set in motion a series of events that would lead to something absolutely life-changing.

  
**Suga [9:32 p.m.]:** Hey Daichi, it’s Suga! Sorry for the late text! I just wanted to thank you for the very thoughtful gesture. I’ve never had anyone send me flowers before and it was super sweet. 

**Suga [9:37 p.m.]:** BTW, I hear there is a new Mark Wahlberg movie coming out this weekend? Let me know if you’re free... :-) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Okay, so here we go.
> 
> I hope you guys don't hate me! I am sure this chapter, like the ones before it, answered a few questions and yet still left you with more. Things will get fluffy and funny and sweet again real soon, I promise. I tried to make this story super fluffy overall, then it got a little angsty but I think you guys will like it better that way in the end. It gives this fic more depth and feels a little more rewarding. Just remember, everyone has baggage, and relationships are sometimes hard because of that. But it also makes it worth it, because baggage is lighter when we have someone to carry it with.
> 
> Also, I know this was IwaOi heavy, and while they serve as the secondary couple, this was a topic I wanted them to focus on for a hot minute. Established IwaOi is something else, let me tell you, whew. I hope the divergence didn't bother you!!
> 
> By the way, WOW I am blown away at the comments and kind words and kudos you all have left me, truly!! You all are *so* stinking sweet and it totally makes my day. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought of this installment.
> 
> I'll shut up now.
> 
> Next time: Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch and more DaiSuga interactions (I promise!!)


	6. Soup for the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys really like this chapter! I will see you at the bottom! Please note that perspectives change a few times in one scene as noted by the '///'.

“What the actual _fuck_ did that piece of shit Sato want?” The angry snarl in Kuroo’s voice was tangible, more like he was standing next to Daichi in his master bedroom and less like he was roughly 2,000 miles away. 

“Same thing he’s been asking for the past four years.”

“He’s not getting Yui’s ashes. Not after what--”

“I _know_.” The terse reply cut Kuroo off, leaving him uncharacteristically lost for words. “I know. They’re for Tobio.”

Getting interrupted did nothing to curb Kuroo’s vigor or rage. “I’ll find him, Dai. I’ll drive around our old neighborhood. He can’t live far. I bet he’s still in their grandma’s old house. What a piece of shit,” Kuroo snickered, tongue clicking against his teeth. “And I will light his ass up. He won’t even know what the fuck hit him, I swear.”

“Don’t,” Daichi sighed, exasperated. He drove the heel of his free hand into his left eye, the other fixed firmly to the phone. “He’s not worth it.”

“What if he comes looking for you?”

“I blocked his number. He knows we moved, but he can’t know where. He hasn’t the faintest idea where we are.” Daichi brought his gaze to the clock on the nightstand, the little numbers glowing a green and angry 1:07 a.m. His eyes hurt and he was so exhausted. “We’re safer here than we were in San Francisco.” 

“How much did Tobio hear?”

Daichi froze under the weight of the question. How much did his son hear? Entirely too much, that’s for sure. The little boy probably didn’t remember his uncle, just like he didn’t remember much about his own mother. But Sato was something Daichi vowed with every fiber of his being to protect Tobio from. The man was a monster, and Daichi refused to believe that such a piece of shit could share a bloodline with his late wife, let alone his own son.

“Too much,” the young dad answered finally, squeezing his eyes shut as the recollection of Tobio’s hurt and confused face flooded his mind. “He basically heard me threaten to kill Sota.”

“How did you explain it?”

“I just told him that I was joking around with someone.” Daichi opened his eyes and he felt the cold air of the room burn them, biting at their ever-present film of exhaustion. “I told him it was silly and I didn’t mean any of it. He kinda bought it, but he was still pretty upset.”

“Dai…” Kuroo’s voice was soft and what Daichi wouldn’t give to be engulfed in one of his best friend’s bear hugs right about now. Hugging Kuroo was kind of like hugging a really slender stick, but he always smelled good and used those long fingers to rub at your neck. Plus, he usually knew just what to say. “Babe, do you want me to come and visit? Help get things squared away?”

He had two choices: cave, and admit that he really, really needed his best friend to be there or two, keep wearing that impenetrable mask, that brave face, telling himself that he could do it alone.

Daichi must have been silent for too long because the next sentence struck him like lightning: “I’m booking a flight.” The finality of the statement left no room for negotiation.

Daichi sprung up, sitting forward in his bed, concern in his voice. “Testu, don’t, it’s okay. We already had this conversation, like, two weeks ago.”

“Dai, what the fuck? Just let me come visit.” The pleading tone broke the young dad’s heart. How could he deny such a request from his best friend?

“I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Since fucking _when_ have you or Tobio ever been a burden to me, huh?” If Daichi didn’t know any better, he thought Kuroo almost sounded offended. 

“I know, I just…”

“Worry?” The taller brunette finished his friend’s sentence with a small chuckle.

“Uh, yeah.” An exhausted laugh left his lips, tinged only with the very makings of joy. Talking to Kuroo had that effect on him: even on the worst of days, that damn walking bedhead of a man could bring him a reason to smile.

“Okay, then here’s the deal.”

“I’m listening,” Daichi acknowledged, collapsing back on his bedspread, using the last shred of energy in his weary body to not just pass the fuck out. 

“Stay home from work tomorrow and--”

“I can’t, I have the staff meeting and then--”

“Don’t argue, just _listen._ ” Daichi begrudgingly obeyed and fell silent, allowing Kuroo to continue. “So, as I was saying, you’re going to take the day off tomorrow. Keep Tobio home from school, too. You’re gonna stay home and finish unpacking because I know for a _fact_ that you haven’t finished unpacking the house yet, don’t you even fucking try to deny it.” And Daichi couldn’t, so he sat still and kept his mouth shut. “Dai, I’m not gonna even lecture you on the fact that you went straight to work as soon as you moved there and you didn’t even give yourself the chance to settle in.”

He didn’t. Settling was for dust, something that curves around fixtures and is forgotten about. Settling means permanence, and permanent things can’t be reversed, just like Yui’s death. He wanted nothing more than to settle down, even though the idea was absolutely terrifying all at the same time.

“You said your boss is cool, right?”

“Yeah, he is actually.” Hajime _was_ cool. Kind of stoic and a bit scary at first, but actually really nice. Plus, even though Daichi forgot (he was a little preoccupied on their date) to confirm the theory that Hajime was married to the eccentric and flamboyant principal slash Suga’s BFF, he was still almost 100% sure he was right on that theory. And it made Hajime’s personality all the more understandable. 

“So, just tell him your kid is sick. He understands. Besides, you’re a transfer, Dai. You still have all your sick time built up. Jesus, you took like what, two whole days off after Tobes was born?” Daichi was grateful that Kuroo didn’t mention how much time he took off in bereavement, either. “You’ve given that company plenty. Just try to relax.”

Daichi nodded, which was silly because he knew Kuroo couldn’t see it, but that didn’t matter, because his best friend was right. And in the last 23 years of knowing each other, Daichi was still fairly certain that it would physically kill him if he had to admit out loud that Kuroo was right.

“I’ll do it.”

“Damn right!” He could practically hear Kuroo beaming from the other end. “It’s a good thing, Dai. Don’t worry!”

\------------

 **Daichi [9:11 a.m.]:** _Hey Suga! Sorry for getting back to you so late, Tobio is home sick from school today._

 **Daichi [9:13 a.m.]:** _And thank you for thinking of me. I would really like to go to the movies with you this weekend. :)_

Suga blinked down at the text. He had spent most of the night grueling over the fact that Daichi hadn’t texted him back right away. Granted, he knew he had set himself up for that because _he_ was the one who didn’t initially text right away after getting Daichi’s phone number. So it was fair. In the laws of dating, they had to wait three days, right? It was Tuesday, so that made it exactly three days. So it was cool to start texting now, right? Should it be like a regular basis type of thing? Would they start sending 'good morning' texts or chat about random stuff or what if Daichi was the type who sent too many memes? He didn't seem like a meme over-user, but that wouldn't be the worst thing int he world. Would it? Was that a deal-breaker?

And at that final thought, Suga began to wonder when he became a 15-year-old girl who was concerned about petty things like that. He let out a discontented puff- discontented at himself and his behavior, not about Daichi texting him.

Because Daichi was texting him and saying that going to the movies was totally on the table and- _hold up, is that another text?_ His phone vibrated to life in his hands once more.

**Daichi [9:19 a.m.]:** _And you deserve more flowers than those, btw._

Suga let out a squeal he didn’t know he was capable of making as the blood rushed to his face and his heart started hammering in his chest. Oh dear god, this was happening. Daichi was flirting with him. They weren’t just apology flowers, they meant something more, something else and now they had their next date planned, basically, and --

“Suga-chan! Are you okay?” 

In his excitement, he hadn’t noticed his best friend creep into his office. Not that it would matter, Tooru was the embodiment of stealth in Italian leather shoes. The man was so graceful, it was almost annoying.

“Yes, I’m fine!” Suga did his best to not sound flustered as he locked his home screen and set his phone face down on his desk, practically slamming it into the surface in his rush to hide the texts. Why was he hiding the texts? Was it just because he wasn't ready to have this conversation with Tooru?

He didn’t have time to contemplate that thought too hard as Tooru took a step further into the room, allowing the heavy door to fall to a close behind him. He approached the desk and stared down at the little blond nurse, his designer frames sliding down his angular nose. He looked so intimidating and domineering like that, it never ceased to amaze Suga how the man could slip between personalities on the drop of a dime. 

“Koushi Sugawara,” the tall brunette whispered, hazel eyes narrowed to a cat-like point, “don’t you dare lie to me.” He ran a slender finger over the shiny desktop as he spoke, using that cool, sultry voice that Suga knew for a fact was usually reserved for only two people: either Hajime or Tooru’s mortal enemy, their damned superintendent. The sheer authoritative nature of his tone was downright bone-chilling. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” Suga countered, doing his best not to be swayed by his best friend. Yes, Tooru was hard to deny when he got into this state, but that never once kept Suga from trying. Tooru’s eyebrows raised on his forehead, but he didn’t reply, prompting the nurse to continue. Suga folded his arms over his chest, pressing them into his lavender scrubs. “You tell me what is going on with ‘Baby-gate’ and I’ll share with you what’s going on with hot dad-chan.” Sure, Suga still hated the nickname, but when it came to Tooru, flattery would get him everywhere (always had, always would.)

Tooru stood to full height, his expression unreadable as he mulled over the offer. Suga caught the hint of insecurity that washed over his hazel eyes but decided against commenting on it. He was only pushing Tooru to finally talk about it because he knew his best friend _needed_ to. 

Releasing a soft sigh, Tooru finally broke Suga’s gaze, lowering himself into the blue plastic chair across from Suga’s desk. It was meant for kids, so the tall, slender man looked a bit comical and oversized sitting in it. “Deal,” he mumbled as he buried his face in his hands, propping his elbows on his thighs. “You have to go first though.”

“Okay, fair enough.” Suga could accept that counter-offer, he was cool with negotiations. He leaned forward, folding his hands over the top of the notebooks spread out on his desk. “Daichi sent me a text that said Tobio is home sick from school today. And he said he wanted to go to the movies with me this weekend, since I invited him.”

Tooru shot up at that prospect, whatever forlorn expression he had been wearing before instantly gone. His face was beaming, _scheming_ , because Suga just knew better than to expect anything else. “Tobio is sick?”

Suga gave a subtle shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. I haven’t responded to ask him how he's feeling or anything yet though.”

“Suga-chan, I swear to god, you are a _nurse_. It’s time to use your skills!” He clasped his hands excitedly, speaking so quickly that Suga could barely keep up. “Holy shit, text him back right now and offer your nurse wisdom! You know, they probably don’t have a pediatrician here yet! Offer him Mattsun’s information! He’s a great pediatrician!” 

Before Suga could even reply, Tooru’s thoughts continued to pour in quick succession, the principal becoming very animated and talking with his hands. “Wait! Koushi honey, this is your chance! Be a knight and shining honor for them and _ohmygod_ ,” the last words all ran together, “make them your famous chicken noodle soup and take it by there. Pay them a house call!”

“Take it by there?” Suga asked, unable to reel in the incredulous tone the question took on. Take soup by their house? “What, like ask him if I can drop it by?”

“No! Just take it by!” The brunette was bursting at the seams. “His address is in Tobio’s student file! It would be so easy just to waltz by there tonight and bring them some soup and yesssss, you absolutely _must_ make your cinnamon rolls!” 

There it was - that was the scheme: violating FERPA laws and abusing power. How could he drop by Daichi’s house with a meal under the guise of wanting to take care of Tobio? Not that he didn’t want to take care of Tobio, because while he _was_ worried about the student’s health, he also wanted to see Daichi face-to-face again, and this was the perfect excuse, granted that it was also highly unethical.

“You want me to whip all this up sometime after I get off at 4 p.m., and just casually run it by there and not look like the world’s biggest stalker?” This question was immediately followed by an exasperated sigh as Suga ran a slender hand through his silken gray locks. “Listen, that all sounds very Florence Nightingale of me, but there's work to do and...”

“Take half of a personal day.” 

Suga blinked for a moment, stunned. Surely, this was an abuse of power, too. “No, Tooru, I can’t. I have to finish logging the vision tests and then I have 17 kids who need their after lunch meds and everything else.” He gestured to the stack of folders piling up next to his computer monitor. 

“Leave after lunch,” Tooru offered, leaning back in his seat, threading his fingers together to rest it behind his head. “After the last of the kids have had their meds, take three hours of vacation time and go get all the stuff you need to prove that you’re not only a kick-ass nurse but a great cook and you’re totally potential marriage material.”

“You’re doing this as a way to get out of telling me about your and Hajime’s conversation, aren’t you? Because if I'm going to leave early, that means you know I’ll kick you out of my office right now so I can ensure my work is caught up before I take off.” 

This caused the brunette to scoff and place an offended hand over his heart, his fingers long and pale against his neatly pressed mint-green button down. “I would never do such a thing! Everything I have suggested today is purely for your own personal gain and the much-needed improvement over your love life.”

“Tooru, you’re gonna need to talk about this at some point. Even if it’s not with me, you definitely need to have a conversation with your husband.” Suga’s concerns were well-intended. He had paid witness to the stale-mates that were born from the Iwaizumis’ fights. Both were stubborn and prideful creatures, and both were often piss-poor communicators until they banged it out, which wasn’t a fix even then. 

His best friend’s demeanor transformed once more, a signature pout replacing his rueful smirk. “I will talk to Hajime when I’m ready… when we’re both ready.”

“Did you guys fuck yet?”

“Like, recently?”

“Since you lashed out and cut your hand?” Suga clarified, gesturing to the brunette’s bandaged palm. 

Hazel eyes widened as Tooru met Suga’s stern gaze. “H-how did you…?” he stuttered, clearly confused. He hadn’t told Suga any of the details regarding their fight.

“I’m not stupid, Tooru. You’ve had that bandaid on there for a few days and you get really sad when you look down at it.” The ash-blond schooled his features into a knowing look. He knew he wasn’t guessing or just making assumptions; they had been friends for far too long. “Also, other than your knee injury, you’re basically the lithest and most graceful person to ever exist. I’ve never seen you fall or even bruise. So if you cut your hand, it’s because you were throwing a fit. And if you were throwing a fit, it’s because you were mad at Hajime.”

“Suga-chan, are you going to leave early or not?” he asked, shooting up in his seat, clearly done with the conversation. “And for the record, we banged it out four times and ruined the comforter you bought as a wedding gift.”

\--------

Daichi had taken Kuroo’s advice, which was a scary enough prospect as it was. But the organic chemist had been right - Daichi needed a day to decompress, and so did Tobio. The dark-haired boy had woken up in the middle of the night with a panic attack, something the young dad assumed was because of the tearful state he went to bed in. He didn’t let Tobio sleep in his bed too often, but when he did, it was usually for a good reason. 

After sleeping in, they had spent the morning taking care of things around the house, getting the last of the kitchen things packed away, and finally organizing the linen shelf. Daichi unpacked the rest of his clothes, sorting them in the dual closets in his master bedroom. His clothes took up one side while the other side was used for storage. The storage side housed a variety of items, including a few things of Yui’s that he could never part with, her wedding dress among them. He had no one else to give these items to other than Tobio, so it only made sense to Daichi that he hang onto his late wife’s things until their son was of age and old enough to decide what to do with them. 

Then, after a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Doritos (Daichi really needed to go grocery shopping for healthy stuff), the pair curled up on the couch to rewatch _The Lion King_ for the umpteenth time. The six-year-old snuggled into his dad’s broad chest, his blue blankie clenched tightly in his fist. His eyes drooped lower and lower, his dark eyelashes resting on his ruddy little cheeks.

Daichi lived for these moments because he knew they were fleeting. Tobio would grow up and not need him one day, not like this, at least. He wouldn’t want to cuddle and be held and have his back rubbed in small circles. He wouldn’t crawl into the king-sized bed after a nightmare or a panic attack. Some day, he wouldn’t want his daddy to hold his hand or kiss his cheek or wipe his tears. Though Daichi knew that Tobio would always be his beautiful boy, no matter what, the idea of him growing up hurt more than the young dad could bear.

He must have drifted off at some point during ‘Hakuna Matata’, because when he awoke, the DVD was back on the main menu and Tobio was missing from the crook of his arm. Startled at the revelation, Daichi sat up quickly, causing a little haze of dark stars to form in front of his eyes. He winced and grabbed the back of his head - he definitely needed to eat a little better.

“Tobio?” he called out, rising from the sofa. He glanced around the room, it had to be late afternoon based on the warm orange and yellow light that filled the space. Had they really slept that long? “Tobio!” Daichi repeated a little louder when his first call merited no response.

“Yes, daddy?” Tobio asked, poking his head around the banister of the stairs.

The young dad wiped the sleep from his eyes and yawned. “What are you up to buddy?” 

“Playing with my Pokemon cards,” Tobio explained, holding up a foil Charizard. Daichi had to squint to see it, since his son was still at the top step.

“Come down and show me,” Daichi instructed with a warm smile, holding out his hand.

Tobio beamed and headed down the stairs. Once at the bottom, he showed the card to his dad. It made Daichi feel very nostalgic thinking about how he and Kuroo and Yui used to pretend to be Pokemon trainers after Kuroo’s mom bought them a VHS of a Pokemon movie. They all grew up pretty poor and without much money between them, so sharing small treasures like that had become a staple of their childhood. What one lacked, the other gave.

“Charizard is my favorite,” Daichi explained. “I liked him the most because he was a fire breathing dragon, and I thought that was super cool.”

Tobio blinked down at the card and looked back up at his dad. “Charizard helps the other Pokemon in the forest by protecting them. He fights off the mean people who show up.” He explained it so seriously and earnestly that Daichi felt like his heart was going to fall right out of his chest. “That’s what I make Charizard do, at least.”

Much to Tobio’s surprise, Daichi reached down and scooped up his son, pressing him to his chest and snuggling his hair. “Never change, my sweet boy,” he pleaded.

“Daaaaaaad,” the little boy grumbled, squirming. “Put me back down!”

“Nope,” Daichi argued, spinning his son around in a circle, pulling little giggles from the once-resistant boy. “I can’t put you down, the floor is lava!”

“Nooo not the lava!” he squealed in delight, kicking his little legs. Daichi caught a tiny foot in the abdomen, winding him a little, but he didn’t lessen his grip. He continued with a barrage of tickles, causing his son’s giggles to only increase in number as he wiggled.

The playful assault only came to an end when the doorbell rang, jarring the dad’s gaze toward the front of the house. He lowered a breathless Tobio to the floor and patted him on the head. “Hang on buddy, it’s probably a salesman or something. Why don’t you head upstairs and clean up your toys, hmm?”

Tobio nodded and headed back the direction he had originally come. On his way to the front door, Daichi checked his crazy sleep hair in the mirror hanging in the entryway and smoothed it down over the back of his head. He didn’t want to look like a hobo, even if it was a salesman. 

But when Daichi pulled back the heavy oak door, he had to hold onto the adjacent wall for dear life. Before him was an apparition, an entity he was sure was so angelic that it could only be a figment of his imagination. Perhaps he never actually woke up from his nap after all and he was still blissfully asleep during _The Lion King_. That _had_ to be it, because Suga was standing on his front porch, dressed in light blue jeans and a heather gray v-neck, the same color as his gorgeous hair. And in his arms he held a small crockpot, a canvas tote bag slung over his shoulder.

“S-Suga?” Daichi stuttered dumbfounded.

“Uh, hey.” Suga gave him a sheepish smile and the faintest dusting of pink brushed his cheeks. “I am, uh, you said that Tobio was sick so I thought I would bring some food over. It’s not much, but I know, umm, how tough it is being sick. I mean, I’m a nurse, obviously, not a chef, but I know that a lot of people like my take on chicken noodle and... yeah.”

But before Suga could start up his rushed mumbling again, Daichi quickly interrupted. “Oh my gosh, that must be heavy, let me take that for you!” He reached for the crockpot, cradling it carefully as he used his shoulder to prop the door open. “This is so kind, please come on in.”

“Thank you,” Suga said with a small nod, looking a little relieved as he stepped foot into the house. Daichi knew that Suga wasn’t the type to judge, and while he was very grateful he had unpacked most of the remaining boxes and organized the house a little, it was still subpar at best. There was still so much to be done, but Daichi tried not to worry about it too much.

“Uh, pardon our mess,” Daichi stated nervously as he led Suga back through the open floor plan and toward the large kitchen. The movie’s menu was still stuck on the TV, the blanket they had used balled up on the couch. At least the kitchen table had been assembled and Daichi was domestic enough to own a scented candle that sat in the middle, though it was unlit. “I’m afraid we’re still not settled in completely…” As he uttered that sentence, he thought of Kuroo’s words.

“Oh, that’s okay,” the ashen blonde waved his hand dismissively. He followed Daichi’s lead and sat his bag on the counter next to the crockpot. “I am sorry Tobio didn’t feel well today. Does he have a fever? I brought over some of my medical supplies, I would be happy to take a look.” Daichi opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Suga spoke up again, pulling a piece of paper from his pants pocket. “Oh! And I have a card for our friend Issei Matsukawa. We call him Mattsun, but he’s a great pediatrician and I promise you’ll be in good hands with him, I assure you. If I didn't work for the school, I would love to work in his practice."

The gesture that followed shocked even Daichi himself as he brought his hands down to comfortably cradle Suga’s face, cupping the soft, porcelain skin of his cheeks, his thumbs tracing the worry lines away from the little blond's face. “Suga, this is so great, thank you.”

Daichi felt the shorter man’s face heat up under his touch, prompting him to pull away and rest them against the counter instead, a boyish expression on his face. The brunette couldn’t deny he felt his own neck burning at the realization that he had touched the young nurse so intimately. Granted, it wasn’t sexual or anything of that nature, but it was more contact than Daichi had had outside of a platonic relationship in a very long time. 

“Ah, don’t mention it,” Suga whispered, clearly a little flustered himself. He reached out and took the lid off of the crockpot, allowing the warm spices to fill the air. “It’s just a little chicken noodle soup is all. I have some cinnamon rolls in the tote, too.”

“Did you make all this from scratch?” Daichi asked, eying the golden soup. It was made with egg noodles, the broth thick and hearty. It was a far cry from the canned chicken noodle he had eaten as a kid. 

“Yes, I did.” Suga’s blush deepened across his face and neck, the ruddy color warm and sweet, just like him. “It wasn’t a big deal though.”

“How did you have the time? It’s barely 5:30.” Daichi glanced at the green glowing numbers on the stove. Didn’t Suga get off at 3:30 or 4 when the school closed and the kids went home?

“Oh, I took the afternoon off. I had some errands to run and thought I’d whip this up for you guys. I know that being sick is tough, especially in a new place.” The gray-haired nurse ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I just hope you like it. And that it makes Tobio feel better.”

“Oh, well, you see,” Daichi cleared this throat and turned away, tapping his fingers anxiously on the countertop. “He doesn’t have the flu or anything. He had a panic attack last night after some bad dreams, and I just thought it was best…” The brunette sighed, pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes once more. “I just thought I’d keep him home so he didn’t have one at school.”

“Daichi,” Suga offered, setting a hand on the taller man’s large bicep, a look of understanding washing over his delicate features, “taking a mental health day is just as important as taking off when you have the flu or something. You did the right thing.”

“Do you think he’ll fall behind?” 

Suga laughed, and it was the most beautiful thing Daichi had ever heard, the sound music to his ears, especially after going a few days without hearing it. Sure, he loved classic rock and Don Henley could sing his heart out all day, but there wasn’t a sound on this earth that could compare to the melodic, sweet tone of Suga’s laugh. If he could bottle it and keep it forever, he would. 

“No, I think your smart son could miss one day and be just fine,” Suga assured with a soft smile.

“I just worry a little. Because he’s kinda bad at math, as hard as that is for an accountant to admit.” Daichi gave a chuckle in return. “He’s artistic like his mom... I can barely sketch passable stick figures.”

“Nurse Suga!” Tobio yelled as he came around the corner, a wide smile plastered on his face. He had changed clothes yet again (he had a bad habit of doing that) and was now wearing bright blue athletic shorts and a hazard orange, long-sleeved t-shirt with a dinosaur on the front. Daichi would have to reiterate to Suga at some point that while his son had an artistic eye, his color matching could use some work.

“Hey, Tobio!” Suga exclaimed, bending down to give the little boy a half-hug once he collided with Suga’s legs. “How are you feeling?”

“Good! We watched Lion King but daddy fell asleep.” A cobalt glare was tossed in the young dad’s direction, and Daichi held up his hands in defense. 

“Hey, you were asleep first, mister!” 

“Was not!” Tobio scrunched his nose defiantly and with a great offense as if he couldn’t believe something so slanderous could be said about him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daichi gave a little wink to his boy who only could giggle in response.

“But Nurse Suga, what are you doing here? Don’t you live at school?”

The ashen blonde busted up laughing again, bending over he giggled. Daichi would have to thank his son later for pulling that magical laugh out of Suga.

“No, I don’t sweetheart,” he explained, shaking his head. “I actually live in an apartment in town, but I brought you some dinner I made.”

“What did you make?” Those deep blue eyes were practically _sparkling_ at the idea of more food. 

Okay, Daichi had to admit he couldn’t blame his son. That homemade soup looked way more delicious than any peanut butter and jelly sandwich ever had. 

“Do you like chicken noodle soup?” Suga asked, pointing to the crockpot. The little boy craned his head to look, so Daichi scooped him up to give him a better view of the counter. 

Yep, those eyes were totally sparkling.

“It smells yummy!” he exclaimed while giving his signature smile. Suga looked as though he was going to melt at the compliment. Maybe Tobio would end up being the world’s best wingman because god only knew that title didn’t belong to Kuroo.

Or maybe it did because if Daichi hadn’t taken a sick day, they wouldn’t currently be standing in the kitchen together admiring this angel / heavenly being’s homemade meal. Maybe Tobio and Kuroo could share the title.

“What do you say, should we fix you a bowl?” Daichi asked, booping his son on the nose with a pointer finger, earning him another giggle.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” Suga offered, taking a step back toward the door. “We can meet up another time to get the crockpot back.”

Daichi felt his face literally fall. The smile that had been plastered on it for the last ten minutes simply crumbled at the idea of this ethereal being leaving his presence. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Pardon?” A gray eyebrow raised up on Suga’s forehead, crinkling the little beauty mark beside his eye.

 _Holy shit, fucking cute_. The very sight about made Daichi stutter out his next words. “W-well, uh, you went through all this work. And we would love the company. We haven’t had any guests yet.”

“Yeah, stay and eat with us Nurse Suga!” 

Surely, no one, not even an angel, was powerful enough to turn down the little brunette boy, who housed all the charm and sweetness in the world inside of his not-even four-foot-tall body. 

A wave of relief washed over Daichi as Suga nodded, saying, “okay, then I can stay. I just didn’t want to impose.”

“You could never impose,” Daichi assured in a tone that was so much cooler and affirmative than he imagined, and he thanked his lucky stars for that. And it must have been the right thing to say because the color returned to the nurse’s face along with a very shy grin.

Daichi set Tobio back down on the floor, instructing him to get the table ready. The boy obliged, grabbing three spoons (of varying styles and sizes) from the silverware drawer and set them on the table. He also grabbed three cloth napkins ( _we have cloth napkins_? Daichi wondered) and put those with the silverware. The Sawamura men insisted that Suga take a seat at the table. 

“Yeah, sit down Nurse Suga! We will serve you like at a restaurant!” Which elicited another round of laughter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been served my own food before.”

“Better than being served my food,” Daichi admitted as he sat down a large bowl in front of the young nurse as well as one in front of his son. “I can grill though.”

“Oh yes, Maker's Mark, Marky Mark, and steaks. The Holy Trinity of the perfect man.” One honey-warm eye winked at him, and Daichi felt himself go into cardiac arrest.

“Hey now, I’m a simple man.”

“Is that a Lynard Skynard reference?”

Daichi’s eyes widened. “You like Lynard Skynard?”

“Heavens no,” Suga countered with a passive swat of his hand. “You can keep your rock’n’roll.”

A loud slurp rose from Tobio’s spot where he was armed with a full spoon and a rapidly emptying bowl. “Wow! This is so much better than daddy’s!”

There was no force on earth that could keep the embarrassment from rising in Daichi’s chest. “I uh, my soup comes in a can,” he clarified, coughing into his hand for good measure as he lowered himself into one of the dining chairs; across from Suga and next to his son.

“Not all of us can be both exceptionally beautiful _and_ gifted in the realm of culinary arts.” As dense as the young dad was, the flirtatious candor in the nurse’s voice was not lost on him.

“No,” he stated with a wink, “we all can’t be you.”

///

 _Don’t stare at his arms in that cut off shirt._ _His kid is right there and he can see you staring._

It wasn’t true, Tobio wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to anything other than his meal. And Suga’s eyes were glued to the rippling biceps that were so very obvious in that shirt (or lack thereof). Daichi had answered the door in a pair of charcoal gray Nike running shorts (he saw almost bare thighs omg and they were every bit as juicy as they looked in slacks) and that stupid blue cut-off t-shirt that showcased those tan fucking arms and he damn near dropped the crockpot all over the very nice front porch.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised at the fact that Daichi had such a lovely house out in the suburbs. He was the DCFO at a bank, for crying out loud. And Suga knew that Hajime was basically balling out of control as the CFO, because Tooru didn’t wear designer shoes and nice watches and expensive ass cologne every day on a public school principal’s salary. (That was Suga speaking from sheer experience as a public school employee.) But still, Daichi’s house was absolutely immaculate with an open floor plan, shiny chrome appliances, and a large sectional sofa in front of a flat-screen TV. When they had met for dinner, Suga had noticed that Daichi’s car was kind of plain and while his clothes were nice, they weren’t over the top. It was obvious that the young dad spent his money on making a home for him and his son, and that was admirable.

“Here, let me help clean up,” Suga offered as he rose from the table, hand outstretched for empty bowls.

“No way,” Daichi countered with a firm shake of his head. “You were the guest and you also brought the food. Allow me.” Daichi stood and grabbed the blue ceramic bowl from Suga’s hand before he even had a chance to retaliate again.

“Nurse Suga! Do you want to see my room?” Tobio asked, eyes bright with excitement.

“Now, Tobes..."

“Sure, I would love to see your room!” Suga exclaimed, cutting off Daichi’s protests.

Daichi leaned over to whisper to Suga, the warmth of his breath tickling against the shell of his ear, sending goosebumps parading down his spine. “You don’t have to stay up there long. Sorry, we just put up the rest of his posters today and he’s excited.”

Suga shook his head. “I don’t mind,” he said through a blush. 

“Cool! C’mon!” Tobio latched onto the nurse’s hand, making their way toward the staircase. He prattled on and on as they ascended the stairs, chattering away about the Pokemon cards his dad gave him, and the polar bear posters his dad had ordered from ‘the Amazon’ (Suga assumed Amazon prime) and hung up for him. Suga’s heart swelled - it was pretty obvious that Daichi was a wonderful father. Did he do it all alone? He must, because while the house was nice, nothing about it screamed femininity. In fact, it had been scarcely decorated, apart from a single scented candle and what appeared to be some baby pictures of Tobio as they walked up the staircase.

“Annnnd this is my room!” Tobio announced, throwing open the door to show off a pretty standard 6-year-old’s bedroom. It was decorated in shades of blues, an obvious collection of the boy’s many interests. On his bed was navy comforter covered in planets (Suga would have to make it a point to get Tooru and Tobio together to discuss space), an electric RC car flipped upside in the middle of a rainbow color rug (Tobio explained that he liked all the colors and that his dad said it was okay if rainbow was his favorite color), and of course, posters of polar bears and Minecraft and even one of the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Hey, you used to live in San Francisco, right?” Suga asked, taking a step further into the room and pointing at the poster of the iconic red bridge.

“Mhmm!” Tobio nodded excitedly. “Daddy and I used to drive over that bridge to go to gramma’s house. She lives in Oakland. Daddy doesn’t like the Raiders, though.”

The Raiders? “Like, football?”

“Yes! Daddy used to play football. He even played in college, which is super cool. Gramma showed me a picture once.” The young boy was maneuvering around the room now at an almost breakneck pace, pointing at various toys and telling stories. Though to be honest, Suga was only half-listening because his brain was currently short-circuiting over the fact that Daichi used to wear football pants and he very much wondered where said photograph could possibly be.

Tobio was now standing at the little desk in his room where the tabletop was covered in various stones and rocks, quite obviously a collection of some kind. “We used to go to the beach all the time, me and gramma and daddy. I have lots of rocks, but this one is my favorite because mommy found this one especially for me,” he explained, holding up a little rock and placing it in Suga’s hand. It was shiny and purple, looking like it had been meticulously polished. “Daddy says it’s special because mommy took it out of the ocean herself and left it for me.”

“Your mom?” Suga repeated, his throat suddenly dry as he looked down at the little round stone. It was smooth and flat and fit perfectly in his palm. It was clearly beautiful, something unique, pulled from a body of water, and cherished; it was a stone meant to be gifted. “When did your mom give you this?”

Tobio got quiet, looking down at his little bare feet. “Before she died. Daddy says I am supposed to keep this at the shrine with her picture, but if I get really sad or scared, I like to hold it and pretend she’s here with me.”

Suga handed the stone back, lowering himself to a crouch in front of Tobio. He gave the tiny shoulder a quick, loving squeeze. “I think that’s really lovely, sweetheart. Everyone needs something like this.”

He was speaking to Tobio as a responsible adult should, but in his head, he was all over the place trying to process the information that the little boy had just handed him. _Daichi is a widower. Daichi’s wife died. Tobio’s mom died. That’s why he’s single. Is that why they moved? How long ago did it happen? How did she die? Was she sick? Was there an accident of some kind?_

And while those thoughts were currently the newest reason his brain was short-circuiting, the object of his affections’ voice filled the hallway, Daichi calling up from the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, do you guys want cinnamon rolls?”

Suga gave the sweetest smile he could muster as he turned to Tobio. “What do you say, hmm? How does a cinnamon roll sound?”

The excited squeal Tobio let out as he made his way toward the first floor was all the answer he needed.

///

Okay, so they were done eating cinnamon rolls and Suga was giggling over a joke that Daichi had just made and his eyes were so pretty and his smile caused the corners to crinkle and his voice was so smooth Daichi wished he could wrap himself in it like a blanket and the most important part was that he was still here and that he hadn’t left yet.

“Nurse Suga, do you want to watch a movie with us?”

 _Yeah, Nurse Suga, do you want to watch a movie with us? Please please please please?_ Daichi wanted to punch himself for having such a childish thought. “Tobio, I think we've taken up enough of Nurse Suga's time. We need to let him leave if he wants to."

“No, it's okay! Which movie?” Suga’s eyes were bright and determined. He cast Daichi a little smirk and knowing side-eye, a look that liquified the brunette’s internal organs, turning them into the consistency of Daichi’s shitty condensed Campbell’s soup.

“Transformers!” Tobio clapped his hands excitedly.

“Transformers?” Suga knitted his eyebrows together in question. “Which Transformers movie?”

“The one with the buff guy that daddy likes!”

Oh god. If Daichi was melting it was because he was overheating from embarrassment for the 100th time that night. 

“The one with Mark Wahlberg?”

Daichi groaned - he had been caught. “Yes, that’s the one.”

“Dai, you realized that’s not even the best one, right?” Suga’s giggles filled the air. “Besides, that is a _prime_ example of what I talked about the other day. He’s supposed to be from Texas in that movie and he still literally sounds like a Boston street tough.”

“I like the explosions.” The brunette gave a sheepish shrug. What else could he say? To emphasize his point, Tobio made an explosion noise, pulling his hands apart in a demonstration. 

The gray-haired nurse rolled his eyes, but the smile never once left his face. “Okay, I guess that’s fair. But they _all_ have explosions.”

"Okay, so I like two things," he admitted. Even the smug expression that Suga wore in response was angelic. 

The trio made their way over to the living room. “I’ll put the movie in!” Tobio offered as he clambered to grab the DVD from the entertainment center.

“I take it you watch this regularly?” Suga asked as he lowered himself to the sofa. Daichi debated briefly in his mind where to sit, but finally decided next to the ashen blonde was the best seat in the house.

“He likes the robots. Honestly, he’s going to start watching it and either fall asleep or go grab his toy Transformers from upstairs and play with those instead.” He settled in next to Suga, their shoulders barely brushing.

“I want to sit in between you guys!” Tobio stated as he grabbed the remote and plopped down between them, filling the space, ensuring their thighs would never touch.

_Blocked by my own son. Classy._

The little boy hit play and the movie started. Suga was quick to point out every time Mark Wahlberg’s accent left the Texas variety and rolled into the Boston kind, and Daichi only laughed. Tobio took the time to point out his favorite characters, explaining what he liked about which cars, and what he didn’t. Suga, who was very familiar with the franchise, kept playfully disagreeing, explaining why the original few movies were the best - _Shia LeBouf is cool, too, okay? He may not look as cool, but that little dude put up a fight!_

The blue light from the screen illuminated the nurse’s features, and soon, Daichi could care less about what the Autobots or Decepticons or even what Marky Mark was up to. He only saw Suga, his porcelain features so delicate and gorgeous, the way he scrunched his nose a little when he laughed, slightly shaking his head, causing that stunning, slightly messy ash hair to fall over his face. His warm eyes housed a light in of itself, a fire that burned within Suga, causing him to glow from the inside out. He was so perfect, it almost hurt.

“Dai? I think he’s asleep.” Suga’s hushed tone pulled Daichi from his reverie, prompting him to look down at his son, curled up between the two adults. Actually, his legs were strung across Suga’s, and his head was resting on Daichi’s bicep. The little boy was snoozing away, mouth open, not a care in the world.

“Oh, I think you’re right,” Daichi chuckled softly, careful not to disturb his son. “It’s a little past his bedtime.”

“I think the movie’s almost over,” Suga stated, jerking his head toward the television. “So I should probably take off so you can get him to bed and get on with your night.”

“Oh, well, I’ll walk you out.” Daichi knew he couldn’t keep the nurse there any longer, much to his displeasure. “Let me put Tobio upstairs really quick.” Suga nodded, helping guide the 6-year-old into his dad’s arm. Daichi knew he didn’t _look_ heavy, but when he was passed out asleep, Tobio was like hauling around the world’s largest sack of potatoes. It was part of the reason Daichi refused to fall out of shape - he needed to stay fit to keep up with all that energy, and yes, on occasion, when his son morphed into a ten-ton gunny bag of produce.

“There you go, buddy,” Daichi whispered once he carried the boy upstairs and tucked him into his little bed. Daichi pushed his son’s dark hair away from his face. He looked so peaceful sleeping, visiting the realm of dreamland. Before leaving his son’s room, Daichi made sure the nightlight was plugged in, the little device filling the room with tungsten starlight, the perfect thing to chase off the bad dreams.

“Thank you again for everything,” Daichi commented as he made his way back to the bottom of the staircase. Suga was leaning up against the front door, the washed crockpot in his arms, the empty tote bag that had held the cinnamon rolls slung casually over his shoulders. 

Now that they were alone, Daichi could tell that Suga’s expression had changed, though he couldn’t exactly tell how. He was still bright and beautiful, as if he could ever be anything else. But his demeanor was different somehow, his body language a little more guarded. The shift was slight, but it was there.

“No worries, I’m glad I could spend some quality bonding time with the Sawamura men.” The smile he wore looked thoughtful, his tone telling.

“You really spoiled us today, Nurse Sugawara.”

The ashen blonde rolled his eyes and swung his shoulders, bopping the taller man coyly on the arm with the empty canvas bag. “Don’t mention it. I was just worried I’d look like a stalker.”

“I mean, I’m guessing that the school board frowns upon getting into student personnel files for one’s own personal gain.”

“That is correct, yes,” Suga grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “To be fair, it was the principal’s idea.”

“He’s a bit of a card, isn’t he?”

“A _card_?” Suga sputtered, unable to keep his voice from cracking. “What are you, a hundred?”

“What, you don’t like old men?”

“Nope, old men are gross.”

“Rude.” Daichi’s chuckle warmed his chest as it left him. He also knew there was an absolutely enamored look written on his face, but he couldn’t bother to mind. “By the way, I have what is probably a dumb question.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Is your friend Tooru married to my boss?”

The deadpan look Suga gave him nearly rattled Daichi. “Not much gets past you, huh Sherlock?”

“What?!” he laughed, “give me a break.”

“Whatever you say, oh Great Mouse Detective.” Suga rolled his eyes, but the gesture wasn’t done with any sort of malice. “Kind of explains why Hajime is grumpy all the time though, doesn’t it?”

Daichi nodded his head and rolled his lip, feigning the fact he had to contemplate that one hard. “I mean, I guess I could see it,” he jested sarcastically. “The real mystery is how you’re not walking around here with the same attitude.”

“Meh, I didn’t marry the guy. But not from his lack of trying, either.”

“I won’t ask. Though, my best friend is a bit the same way.” 

“Further proof they shouldn’t meet.”

Daichi nearly broke his neck from the sheer vigor in which he nodded. “You’re not kidding there,” he whispered, pairing it with the smallest chuckle.

A lull washed over the duo then, a soft, natural quiet filling the space between them. They gave each other long, sweeping looks, eyes searching the other for something; permission, acceptance, answers. A thousand questions formed between them, but Daichi could utter only one. “Can I kiss you?” he asked a bit breathlessly, unsure of how he sounded because of the hammering in his chest and his ears. 

“Yes,” Suga’s soft murmur left his pretty, pink lips, the word just a faint vibration.

It had been literal years since Daichi kissed someone in a romantic sense, but he tried to push that thought from his mind as he bent slightly down to capture the smaller man’s mouth in a feather-light touch. He didn’t want this to be erotic or hurried or urgent. He just wanted a moment to relish how warm and sweet Suga’s lips were, just like everything else about him was. He tasted like cinnamon rolls and a dream come true. 

It was nothing more than an elongated peck, done with the most innocent and amorous of intentions, Daichi fighting the urge to run his fingers through silky, ash hair. Instead, his large hand settled on Suga’s cheek for a second time that night, though his touch lingered a little longer, his fingertips filled with electricity as they mapped the high cheekbones and supple skin.

“Goodnight, Daichi,” Suga whispered as he pulled away, voice thick and syrupy, as if he were dazed. Daichi stared back with half-lidded eyes.

“Goodnight, Nurse Sugawara.”

Daichi held the front door open and watched as the petite nurse made his way down the front step. And his heart skipped a beat when the gray-haired man turned back, offering a demure wave over his slender shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow, here are a few things I have to say.
> 
> First of all, **WHAT**?! Your comments have been SO freaking kind, it's seriously mindblowing. I have worked the last 37 days (yes, thirty-seven) days in a ROW between my two jobs and I am literally on the brink of tears at how sweet you all have been. It has been a lot, but I am blessed to have two jobs that help provide for my family, so I'm not trying to complain at all. I just want you to know how grateful I am! Writing is my escape from it all, and your comments make it all worth it. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know Suga's body language and stuff was a bit conflicting there toward the end, but just wait until we hear his perspective on things. I promise I'm not just trying to be a shitty storyteller lol. Not on purpose, anyway!
> 
> I have a lot of work done on the next chapter, but it still needs even more. I appreciate your patience over the past few weeks! I hope to have a quick turn around time for you with the next installment, but I also want it to be as perfect as possible.
> 
> I'm a bit critical over this chapter, but I think it's just because my brain is fried. If you enjoyed it, will you leave me a note and let me know?
> 
> As always, if you want to follow my shenanigans on [**Tumblr**](https://photogiraffe77.tumblr.com/), please do!
> 
> Oh, and here are some reference photos for how I imagine Daichi's house, minus a basement in the interior pic --  
> [exterior](https://associateddesigns.com/sites/default/files/plan_images/main/country_house_plan_photo_adkins_30-197_front.jpg) and [interior](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/g98XmTriMY0/maxresdefault.jpg)
> 
> Next time: answers


	7. An Abridged History of Daichi Sawamura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so just a quick note. This is by the far the longest chapter of this fic so far at nearly 9k words. Fair warning: it is heavy. It is perhaps the heaviest portion of this story. See you at the bottom for more notes. There are TW's below, but they are also spoilers, so just as a heads up on both accounts.
> 
>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** sexual assault (non-graphic description), violence (fist fighting, mild blood), sexual identity discussions, homosexual slurs, minor character death with non-graphic description (though detailed, the death isn't gory or graphic)

She had been a cornerstone in his life for as long as he could remember, that little girl who lived four houses down with the short, choppy hair and warm almond eyes. 

He had been 9 years old when they met, though Yui was 8, just a year younger. She was a tomboy, that was painfully obvious as she mosied up to Daichi and Kuroo with a wide, lopsided grin on her freckled face, dressed in faded jeans and a dirty Mickey Mouse t-shirt. “Hi, there!” she called, almost tripping over her own feet as she stumbled up to Daichi and Kuroo, not even slightly intimidated by the two large boys. “I’m Yui Michimaya and can I play with you guys?”

Daichi, completely taken aback by the sweet little thing that had just wandered up the sidewalk didn’t reply, but Kuroo was quick to jump in, always picking up where the other lacked. “Do you know how to play volleyball?” he had asked excitedly, holding the ball the duo of boys had just been using above his head, showing it off. The leather was peeling from overuse, but it was Daichi and Kuroo’s favorite thing on the planet. They would spend countless hours hitting it back and forth, practicing receives and spikes on a makeshift clothesline that was no more a volleyball net than the dilapidated tree fort in Kuroo’s backyard was a castle.

“No,” Yui admitted, wiping her little nose with the back of her hand. “But I can learn! I like to play sports.” Then, she pulled something out of her pocket. “And I have candy!” Sure enough, she had three little peppermints rolled up in crinkling cellophane, presented like a peace offering or a form of bribery, Daichi was never really sure. 

That was all Kuroo needed to hear before excitedly introducing themselves, taking one of the pieces, and popping it into his mouth. “I’m Tetsurou Kuroo and I’m nine, but you can just call me Kuroo. I like it better anyway. And this is Daichi Sawamura, he’s also nine.” His black hair had been wild even then, sticking up like a crow’s nest in every direction. His poor mom tried to flatten it out each morning, but it never failed to be a complete floof ball by mid-afternoon. The ocean humidity never really helped, either. “We live in those houses back there,” he explained, gesturing over his shoulder to the two short buildings behind them. They weren’t fancy houses by any means and they resembled a mirrored pair. Daichi’s was white and Kuroo’s was some sort of off-tan color and in dire need of paint. 

“Cool, I live with my grandma down that way,” Yui explained, pointing back the way she came. She popped one of the candies into her mouth before offering the last to Daichi. He wordlessly took it, gradually unraveling the plastic, as if savoring it. He slowly slid it over his tongue, letting the sharp peppermint explode in his mouth. 

Daichi would come to always associate Yui with the taste of peppermint. She was a warm breath of air, but brisk and burning, all at the same time.

“Your grandma? Where are your parents?”

Before Daichi could scold Kuroo for asking something so blunt and personal, Yui laughed, breaking Daichi’s lecture apart. It was an airy, light little thing, resembling her in every way. “I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug. “I’ve been with grandma since I was a baby.”

That was a sufficient enough answer for the taller brunette, and from there, the duo turned into a trio. Wherever the boys went, Yui came with, bright smile and contagious energy in tow. From playing volleyball in their backyards as well as neighborhood football and basketball with the other area kids to the corner store for popsicles and Cokes to watching movies and playing board games and pretending to smoke with candy cigarettes, Yui was there, a permanent fixture in their lives, a piece that hadn’t realized they were missing. 

Doing everything together was easy, considering that they lived so close together. And they enjoyed working as a team, especially when it came to school work. Daichi was a whiz at math, enjoying numbers and calculations. Kuroo was the best at science, and he constantly worried his mother (and Mrs. Sawamura, too, if they’re being honest) with his ideas for chemistry experiments and science projects. Then there was Yui. She was great at art and loved to read. On most days, study sessions were held at the Sawamura house. Everyone said it was because Mrs. Sawamura made the best snacks, but that wasn’t quite true, they just never acknowledged it. 

In all actuality, it was because Daichi’s house was the only one that felt ‘normal’, or like it was supposed to. Daichi’s parents were still happily married to each other, granted that his father worked a lot at the harbor or out on the fishing boat. But Kuroo’s dad was out of the picture completely, and Yui’s only relatives she knew were her paternal grandmother, whom she lived with, and a much older half brother, also on her dad’s side, that she had only met a handful of times. Mrs. Sawamura was short and round and kind and she really did make the best snacks, as well as the best, authentic Japanese food. 

Plus, afterward, when Daichi’s mom would go watch her ‘stories’ and send the kids off to play, the trio would usually climb up to Daichi’s roof just outside of his second-story bedroom window to stargaze. They couldn’t really see the stars from that spot, not through the light pollution from the San Francisco skyline, but that didn’t stop them from trying. But Yui laid in the middle, tucked between her two best friends, finger fixed to the sky regardless, making up stories about the constellations that they could barely see. Kuroo would correct her, armed with a quick _real_ explanation, and Daichi would just lay there and let them bicker, a content smile on his face.

Daichi was the quietest of the three. He let Kuroo and Yui do most of the talking. They were good at it, charismatic, charming. Daichi always felt like the tubby kid that tagged along, even after he grew taller and thinner, though never quite as lanky as Kuroo. And as they entered middle school and the boys turned 13, Kuroo was quick to point out that Yui seemed to have a crush. Daichi denied this.

“Why would she like me when you’re here?” he had conceded over lunch one afternoon. Yui was in the grade below them, so her lunch at school was at another time.

“What do you mean?” Kuroo countered through a large bite of Daichi’s ‘extra’ tuna fish sandwich. The shorter brunette would never share this, but his mom had been packing a second sandwich lately just to make sure Kuroo would always have one. At the time, Daichi just thought it was a little strange, though he never questioned it. But he would find out sometime in high school that it was because Kuroo’s mom’s food stamps had been declined.

Daichi scoffed and heavily rolled his rich brown eyes. “I mean, look at us.” A flush colored his already ruddy face, cheekbones clutching onto the last remnants of baby fat. “I think one of us is better looking than the other.”

This earned Daichi a playful noogie. “Don’t worry, champ, you’ll catch me!”

Neither boy could predict how right Kuroo would end up being. Kuroo, who was always tall and trim and lanky, only got taller and trimmer and lankier. But Daichi _transformed_. Just shy of turning 16, Daichi was extremely active in sports. He swam, played volleyball, and even had the position of tight end on the varsity football team, quite a feat for a 5’7” sophomore. A six-pack found its way to his stomach, his shoulders broad and full, his chest built much the same. Biceps and triceps became rounded and thick, and his thighs were strong and toned. 

Whatever Daichi had denied before regarding Yui, he couldn’t deny much longer.

“How did you know you liked both girls and boys?” Daichi inquired to Kuroo from that famed position on Daichi’s roof, perched with the black shingles digging into the bare skin of their backs, the boys dressed only in basketball shorts. The summer had been hot, sweltering, even, clawing and licking at their skin in waves. But the night provided some respite, the ocean breeze a little more accessible from the added elevation. 

“I dunno,” Kuroo answered simply, his words slurring a little on his tongue, weighted from the effects of the cheap peach schnapps he smuggled from his mother’s pantry. She was around a lot less lately, ‘working’, she said, though based on the string of shitty men she brought over only to turn around and leave with, Daichi knew it wasn’t really ‘work’.

And it wasn’t something the boys did often, sneaking up and getting a little drunk, but Daichi found it easier to be honest and talk about things like this with a little liquid courage. And Kuroo liked it because it was fun, and a way to forget what was going on at home. “I just like ‘em both. There are girls I find pretty and boys I find attractive.”

“Have you kissed both?” Daichi was curious, the alcohol warming his chest.

“Mhmm,” Kuroo murmured. “I made out a bunch this summer.”

“Player,” Daichi teased without any heat, to which his friend responded with a soft chuckle. 

“You’re not the first to accuse me of that.” They were silent for a moment, Daichi closed his eyes and let the breeze blow over his tanned skin. The air was thick with salt and humidity. It carried the smells of the harbor with it, something that felt so much like home. “Why do you ask?” Kuroo inquired, breaking the peaceful silence.

Daichi’s eyes slid open but he didn't turn to face his friend. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed upward, squinting, looking for the stars Yui claimed were up there. “I don’t think I like girls,” Daichi finally admitted, the words leaving his mouth before he really had time to process them.

“No?” Kuroo asked, propping himself on an elbow. Daichi still laid with his back to the roof, the bottle of schnapps clutched in his hands like a cross. 

“Have you ever kissed one?”

“A girl?”

“ _Yeah_ , a girl.” Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“No,” Daichi admitted again. Kiss a girl? He had seen pictures, images of naked women. Kuroo had snuck up magazines filled with them to one of their previous rooftop drinking parties, each depiction of the female was lewd, pornographic in nature. He didn’t admit it at the time, but he didn’t feel what Kuroo said he felt. Daichi only acted embarrassed (though he truly was), before insisting they were too young to look at such things. Kuroo had teasingly accused Daichi of being a prude, but ultimately put the magazines away and moved onto a different topic.

“Not even Yui?”

“Yui?” Daichi repeated, scrunching his nose, handing the bottle back over.

Kuroo nodded while taking another large swig. “Yeah, Yui. She likes you, Dai.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

This earned Daichi another scoff. “Yes, she does! You see how she looks at you, or are you blind?”

Daichi didn’t argue that fact, at least. How could he? Lately, Yui was touching him more often than before, nothing serious or sexual, just light brushes during conversations, Yui making an excuse to give him a hug almost daily. Also, she batted her eyelashes a lot. Daichi didn’t know what that meant, but Kuroo said it was a ‘sign’. 

Yui looked different, too. Her chestnut hair had grown out to touch the tops of her shoulders, swaying whenever she ran. Her big eyes were all the prettier, bright and shining. And she always wore a sweet smile, sending it in Daichi’s direction more often than not. She also sported physical assets that hadn’t been there before, but he tried not to let his thoughts linger there too long. It felt improper and sleazy to think of his other best friend like that.

“I take your silence as understanding,” Kuroo teased.

“Do you think I should kiss her? To check?”

The black-haired man laughed. “To check what?”

“If I’m gay.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to kiss me? I hear I’m pretty good at it.” Kuroo leaned over and nuzzled Daichi’s cheek with his nose, earning him a swift punch in the center of his smooth, bare chest. “Ow! What was that for?” Kuroo whined, rubbing where he had just been assaulted, a pout on his boyish face.

“For being stupid,” Daichi deadpanned. 

“Seriously though, I have a question for you.” The darker brunette ran his thumb over the rim of the alcohol bottle as he processed his thoughts. “What if you like kissing just Yui because you love her?”

“Love her?” 

“Yeah, you love her, don’t you? Love her, like you love me?” Kuroo leaned closer to his friend once more, resting his head on a broad, bare shoulder. “We love each other because we’re friends.”

The thoughtful sigh that left Daichi’s chest was drowned out by the thick orchestra of cicadas and the buzzing of inebriation that littered his thoughts. He loved his friends, though he had never said it aloud before. He just cared for them, wanted to protect them, fight for them. He would do anything for Kuroo and Yui. If that was love, then yeah, he loved his friends.

Daichi didn’t make a decision that night, only changed the subject and they talked until their eyes felt heavy and feet felt numb and they crawled back into Daichi’s bedroom window and collapsed on one another, curled up on the twin bed that centered the room in a platonic cuddle that had become a staple of their friendship.

It was four weeks later that things changed.

School had started back up again, their junior year already proving to be the most difficult one yet. Daichi was now the captain of their football team, a responsibility he took quite seriously. He also qualified and signed up for AP math and accounting courses, which counted for college credit. Plus, his coach had told him to keep his ear to the ground about being scouted: he needed to keep his options open.

Late football practices meant getting home late. His dad was gone a lot during this time of year, as was expected for a fisherman. And it was Wednesday night, which meant that Daichi’s mom was down at the church for women’s Bible study or book club or sewing circle or whatever boring thing it was they did. Daichi didn’t know, but he didn’t care to find out. He just knew that a casserole would be sitting in the oven, ready to be reheated, and he was exhausted and hungry and the idea of a shower and hot meal was calling his name.

He got off the bus stop, like normal, and made his way up the sidewalk. It was raining a bit, the September breeze coming off the ocean offering some relief, his body hot and tired from a grueling training, his heavy duffle bag filled with sports equipment slung over his shoulder.

He wasn’t paying much attention, his mind wandering to practice and the things coach had said, about being scouted. Would his father be proud? Would his mother? His grades were good, he knew, but he often feared it wouldn’t be enough to pay for school. But an athletic scholarship could include room and board and meals, something to take the pressure of his parents. Not that Daichi expected them to pay for school, that was his own responsibility. But still…

“Daichi?”

The brunette teenager snapped his head up as he approached his front porch. Before him was a sight he hadn’t expected. Yui was curled up, back against the door, her clothes practically soaked to the bone, face a mess and trembling.

“Yui?” he asked, throwing his bag to the damp wooden floorboards of the porch, the heavy weight of it landing with a ‘thunk’. “Yui, what’s wrong?” He kneeled beside his friend, a hand on her shaking shoulder.

“Daichi... it’s my grandma…” Her words came out broken, voice hoarse, and raw. Her pretty almond eyes were red-rimmed and teary.

He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his broad and warm chest with zero regard for how he probably smelled like sweat and the football field. She leaned into him so naturally, thin arms circling around his neck as she buried her tearful face into the crook of his collarbone. She didn’t hold back then, her little body wracked with sobs as she cried.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Daichi whispered, running his large hand over her short, mousey hair, carding fingers through damp locks. “I’m right here.”

“She’s gone Daichi,” she whispered, the fear and loss tangible in every syllable, apprehension layered with uncertainty, wrapped in shock. “She wouldn’t wake up and I called the ambulance and they came, but it was too late and now she’s gone and a social worker is going to come and…” her words broke off into uncontrollable whimpers then, her words no longer intelligible. 

“Come inside,” was all Daichi could think to say as he squeezed her narrow frame tighter, pulling her to her feet, most of her body weight still pushed into his stout physique. He fumbled the door open, half-carrying her along until they reached the living room, lowering her to the sofa. She sat, face buried in her hands, slender fingers shaking, her rosy red nail-polish chipped and fragmented where she had peeled it away, evidence of her frantic nerves. 

“Yui, look at me,” Daichi commanded softly, crouched between her knees, warm, firm hands resting on her forearms. Her little wrists were so small, his hands encompassed them completely. “Yui, it will be okay,” he assured, though he knew it lacked confidence, he still hoped it housed comfort. Whether it was leftover rainwater or tears, Daichi wasn’t certain, but he reached up to wipe the moisture away all the same, the brunette girl leaning into the strength in his palm. 

“What do I do, Dai?” she asked, and while the 16-year-old prided himself on almost always having had the answer in calculus or football, he found that he lacked certainty here. He had no idea what to say to his friend, a girl he had known for nearly half of his short life, a person who he would do almost anything for.

“Go upstairs and take a shower or you’ll catch a cold,” he instructed, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze accompanied with what he hoped was a soft, convincing smile. “I’ll get you some clothes and we’ll talk to my mom when she gets home from the church, okay?”

She only gave a weak nod in response. She stood on wobbly legs as she rose to her feet, and Daichi held her hand as he guided her up the stairs, leading her to the bathroom at the end of the hall. He gathered an old pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt, handing it over to her before she shut the bathroom door.

The sound of the running water stuck in his mind as he went back to the first floor, a million thoughts swirling in his brain as he mechanically turned on the stove, ready to reheat the casserole his mother had left behind. He got down two plates and two cups from the cabinet, filling both glasses with water. He set the small, square kitchen table, the Formica top yellowed from years of wear and tear, stained a little back from when his dad used to smoke in the house, before his mother made him quit altogether. Two forks, shiny, but one with a bent tinge. Daichi kept that one for himself.

Yui appeared in the kitchen what felt like decades later, but it had likely only been about fifteen minutes. Her hair was wet, but she was patting it with a gray towel. She was wearing a pair of Daichi’s black Nike sweats, and a shirt that was embossed with the words ‘Bay County Cats Football’ across the chest. The clothes were so big on her, even with the sweatpants rolled and the sleeves pushed up to her elbows.

“Hey,” Daichi said breathlessly right as he pulled the warmed food from the oven.

“Hey,” she replied weakly.

“Umm, mom left me a tuna casserole. Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“Do you want to try?” he asked, unsure of what else to do. He considered himself a good friend, but even he felt wildly unequipped in this situation.

“Okay,” Yui stated, lowering herself into a dining chair. To Daichi, she suddenly looked like someone else seated there. The three of them had spent a lot of time at that table, doing homework, coloring pictures, playing cards, and Monopoly and dreaming of who they might be. But looking back, the teenager had no idea they’d ever end up here, lost on what to do next.

Daichi scooped a bit of the meal onto one of the plates and set it down in front of his friend. “You should at least drink some water,” Daichi explained. Yui nodded, bringing the glass to her pale lips. The sip she took was minimal at best, but it was something.

“Daichi honey, I’m home! Why is your bag on the porch? Did you--” his mother rounded the corner into the kitchen and froze. She was a short, round woman, with dark hair and chocolate eyes that matched her son’s. She was wearing the sort of thing she always did for Wednesday night at the church, some wool dress pants, and an ensemble top with more patterns than Daichi’s eye could keep up with.

“Mom-” Daichi started to explain, but when his voice cracked, Yui’s resolve broke along with it.

“Oh my darling,” Mrs. Sawamura called, practically teleporting across the kitchen to wrap the neighbor girl in a firm embrace. “Sweet girl, tell me about it.”

“It’s grandma,” Yui sobbed again, the tears leaving her eyes like waterfalls. Daichi wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Yui cry this much, if at all. She took scraped knees and tough words with a grain of salt, her positive demeanor always present to pick her up and dust her off. She was fearless to obstacles of all kinds: bullies, bad grades, and body issues. 

Daichi could only stand, useless, leaning up against the sink, his arms folded across his chest, his food untouched as his mother calmed Yui down while the young girl recounted coming home from school to find her grandmother in her chair, unresponsive. He couldn’t look at his friend’s face, only kept his eyes on the floor, counting the checkers in the linoleum tile, doing his best to stay strong as Yui explained about calling the ambulance, the paramedics declaring her dead on the scene. Yui hadn’t waited around for the police or a social worker. She didn’t want to end up in the system, so she ran to the safest place she knew: The Sawamuras’. 

“Sweetheart, listen to me, I will make some phone calls tomorrow. Okay?” His mother had a way with, well, everything. She was truly born to be a mom, with her soothing voice and feather-soft touch. “I will get this figured out. Stay here tonight.” She raised her gaze to meet her son’s, prompting Daichi to stiffen. “Son, go clean your room and make up your bed nice for Yui. You’ll sleep on the sofa until we get this resolved.”

Daichi wasted no time in filling his mother’s request. He cleaned his room (it didn’t take long, really, Daichi was never one for messes), prepared the bed with fresh sheets, made sure to plug in his old night light he had used as a kid, retrieving it from the bottom of his desk drawer. Not that he thought the 15-year-old girl was afraid of the dark, but he was thoughtful enough to think perhaps she would need it to keep her company, something to make her feel less alone.

And for the next two weeks, they carried on like that: Yui slept in the twin bed upstairs, surrounded by posters of Michael Jordan and Priest Holmes and Dachi slept on the sofa, the blue light of their box-shaped TV keeping him company. Sometimes, on the weekends, Kuroo would sleep over and help keep Yui’s mind off of things.

The funeral came, and Daichi held Yui’s hand through the whole service. It was a small affair, only a few neighbors showing up to Mrs. Sawamura’s church. The pastor said some nice words, and the flowers were simple but sweet. Daichi didn’t protest once as Yui set her head on his shoulder, silent tears rolling down her face. Kuroo sat on her other side, arm wrapped around her thin shoulders.

After that, they continued going to school together, trying to move on. Mrs. Sawamura spent a lot of time on the phone, and at one point, a nice lady in a business suit came over and met with Yui and his mom privately, Daichi kicked out of the house, left to wonder what was going on inside.

After several hours, Mrs. Sawamura bid the social worker goodbye and called Daichi back in. Yui was nowhere to be seen. “She wants to be by herself for a bit,” his mom had explained, motioning for him to sit at the table with her. She looked sullen and tired and Daichi was smart enough to know they were about to have a difficult conversation.

He kept his hands folded in his lap while Mrs. Sawamura explained that Yui had an older half-brother who was recently discharged from the military. And as her only known relative, he was going to assume guardianship of the teenager. Yui’s grandmother had owned the small house they had shared, and once Sato moved back in a few days, Yui would live with him until she turned 18. She explained that the state wouldn’t let the Sawamura's keep care of Yui because they didn’t make enough money to justify an extra mouth, as far as the government was concerned. “Besides,” his mother had pointed out, “Yui should stay with family if she can.”

Daichi didn’t believe those words once they left her mouth, not once.

Sure enough, a week came and went and Yui returned to her grandmother’s house. Daichi met Sato Michimaya and immediately didn’t like him. He was 28, 13 years Yui’s senior. They shared the same father, apparently, but that’s where their similarities stopped.

Sato was a tall man, height forcing him to look Daichi in the eye. He had a shaved head, dark hair cropped close to the skin. His arms were covered in tattoos and scars, something Daichi had chalked up to his military service. He smelled like cigarette smoke and his demeanor was guarded, his expression always one that dictated agitation and aggression. 

Even though they were only mere houses apart, Daichi felt like he was abandoning her there, leaving her behind. Kuroo agreed - he knew it wasn’t their fault, though. Daichi knew his mom had done everything she could to keep custody of her, but it was inevitable. The State of California ruled blood thicker than water: Yui would remain in her brother’s care.

The first year was hard for the three of them. Sato had a lot of rules her grandmother hadn’t, and he eyed Daichi and Kuroo like they were delinquents who set out to deflower Yui, or corrupt her in some way. Which was the farthest thing from the truth, but it appeared there was no convincing the older man. As the boys entered their senior year, and Yui her junior year, the leash got only shorter. 

Yui’s personality changed: she was clearly miserable. She didn’t eat much, at least not from what Daichi could tell. He often found himself packing three lunches, on his mother’s instruction. On top of everything going on with the female portion of their trio, Kuroo’s mom was gone even more than usual, and the messy-haired boy became a near-permanent presence around the Sawamura home. Football season became Daichi’s proving ground, the pinnacle of every frustration and fear, a place where he was able to pour himself out. 

When homecoming came around, Daichi was crowned the Homecoming King, something that surprised absolutely no one. He took Yui as his date, Daichi’s mom buying her a dress behind Sato’s back. The older brother had forbidden her from going, but that didn’t keep Yui away. She wanted to support her best friend. Scouts were in the stands, and Daichi had been sweating buckets over it, even causing him to throw up in the men’s locker room before the game began.

They won, of course, they did. And Daichi looked so handsome in his football uniform, the captain’s number one displayed across his broad chest like a badge of honor. Yui would comment at how dashing Daichi looked, especially when he had showered and changed into khaki dress slacks and a handsome baby blue button-up to match Yui’s tea-length, sparkly cerulean gown, all dolled up for the homecoming dance. Mrs. Sawamura was convinced that there wasn’t a more beautiful couple on the earth.

They weren’t a couple, not really. They didn’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, but they held hands and danced the way Daichi imagined best friends, or even lovers, would. Yui laid her head on his chest as they swayed to music, the alcohol Kuroo had sneaked into the gymnasium in a small chrome flask warming their extremities and lifting their spirits. 

And as they walked home from the school, thoughts and feet fuzzy, Daichi did something he thought he’d never do: he kissed Yui. It was slow and chaste, a collection of a lifelong friendship and curiosity and unanswered questions. She tasted like cheap rum and cherry lip gloss and sadness. When he looked back at that night, Daichi would always scold himself for not paying closer attention to how melancholy the poor thing was. If he had, he convinced himself he could have prevented the events that would happen next. He couldn’t though, and the rational side of him knew that, but it wouldn’t matter, not in the end.

By the time the new year came around, Daichi turned 18. And the greatest birthday present came in the form of a full-ride scholarship offer to Golden State College to play football. It was a local college, meaning his family could travel by bus if they wanted to watch him play. But he could also stay in the dorms, and it was all paid for, even his meals. This was a weight lifted on his shoulders, as his parents could finally have some financial relief. Daichi wasn’t an easy boy to feed, not to mention all the extra meals they slipped to his two best friends.

Yui and Daichi remained… well, it was hard to say. If someone asked Yui, Daichi Sawamura, star Tight End, and all-around good guy was her boyfriend. And Daichi didn’t deny it. Sometimes they would kiss, makeout on that couch that Daichi slept on when Yui had stayed with them. But it never moved on in terms of physicality, never escalated and neither of them pushed. Daichi enjoyed the warmth and the closeness of another person, and felt good; he felt like he was protecting Yui, safeguarding her. If Daichi was her boyfriend, then she felt invincible. 

But it also made her a target in Sato’s eyes.

It happened during Daichi's freshman year of college. It was the height of football season, September bringing a roaring heatwave. Two years had come and gone since Sato had taken over as Yui’s guardian, and the truth came flooding out like the inevitable rains that pounded the western seaboard.

Daichi lived in the dorms at Golden State, and Kuroo was attending another university in town, majoring in chemistry. He had managed to get a scholarship for a science proposal Daichi didn’t even pretend to understand, which had left Yui alone in the neighborhood.

The little brunette had insisted she would be okay, that it was fine. Give her a year and she would get an art scholarship and file in right behind her boys. She promised, _insisted_ , even. By that time, Daichi was proud to call Yui his girlfriend. And while he didn’t understand his own feelings sexually, he knew he loved Yui. He convinced himself that loving that girl was normal, and wanting to touch her was _normal_. And that checking out the 22-year-old quarterback of his college team wasn’t normal, so he pushed that urge down, burying it in a very dark and dormant part of his heart. 

_Just love Yui._ He told himself that’s what he needed to do. _She’s a pretty girl, just love her. It would make your mother so happy and it would make Yui so happy._

The call came during his walk back to his dorm, his little flip phone buzzing to life. It was no surprise when Kuroo’s name lit up the screen, but upon answering, he knew immediately the call was anything but routine.

“Daichi - have you talked to Yui today?”

The football player froze in his tracks. “Not yet, why?”

“Dai, something’s wrong. I don’t know what it is, but something is wrong. Can you get to her house? I can’t get her to answer and it will take me a hot minute by bus.” Daichi had saved up enough money from his part-time jobs bussing tables to purchase the world’s shittiest 1998 Crown Victoria, and upon Kuroo’s prompting, he climbed inside and headed straight for his girlfriend’s house.

He remembered pounding at the door, calling Yui’s name. The sun had set and the bulb burning on the front porch buzzed so loud, the tungsten light threatening to go out. Sato answered, a bottle of booze clutched in his hand, curled into a fist. His face was smug and his pants weren’t zipped, jeans pulled up so they barely covered his hips. His golden eyes burned and aubergine bags hung heavy beneath them.

“Where’s Yui?”

“Are you a faggot?” 

Daichi’s eyes widened, the anger boiling in his chest. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I had to touch her, ya know,” Sato explained, taking a long swig of the near-empty bottle. The stink of vodka was malleable and unwavering, sweeping through the screen of the front door. “Ya know why? Because you’re a faggot. I figured it out.” 

And the fucker had the audacity to wink, heavy lid falling over a single dilated pupil, the motion slow, like a camera shutter opening and closing when set to the lowest aperture. Or maybe it appeared that way to Daichi because his blood felt more like kerosene as it pulsed through his veins.

He didn’t remember the first hit, just the resounding aftershocks in his right hand as it pulsated, crimson smearing across his swelling knuckles. The crunch of Sato’s nose sounded more like a gunshot in his ears, the most satisfying snap he had ever heard. It happened again and again until a burn tore at his elbow and someone’s cries reached him, pulling him from the carnal state he had fallen into.

It was Kuroo’s hand on his chest, pushing him away, the cat-like man’s long fingers and golden, pleading eyes, begging him to move away. “You’ll kill him!” Those words meant nothing to Daichi, not then. He wanted him to die.

“He touched Yui!” Daichi tried to explain, but he wasn’t sure if those were really the words leaving his mouth. He must have communicated his point, though, as understanding washed over Kuroo’s features. 

And before he could ask where she was once more, Yui ran out of the backroom, hair disheveled and face a mess, tears running down her cheeks. She looked exactly as she had that night in the pouring rain on Daichi’s porch: lost, hollow, gone. He held out his arms and she ran to him, colliding into him like he was the sanctuary she had been seeking. She buried her face in his chest, allowing his strong arms to provide the refuge, the shelter, the protection she so desperately sought after.

“You can have that slut,” Sato had taunted from his place on the floor, blood pouring down his nose and mouth, the carmine color stark against his pale flesh. He flashed a toothy grin, the crevices of his teeth filled with the red liquid, making his Cheshire smile appear bubble-gum pink. “I took what I wanted.”

Kuroo didn’t waste the opportunity to put the heel of his very large combat boot into the piece of shit’s chest, causing Sato to sputter, but also, laugh. And it was the vilest, most wretched sound Daichi had ever heard. The metallic scent of blood, coppery and warm, coupled with the sharp pungent stink of vodka lingered in Daichi’s nostrils as he carried Yui away, the seventeen-year-old folded in his arms. She sobbed, nimble fingers curled against his hoodie. 

Daichi took her down the street to the one place the brunette girl would surely feel safe: his home. Mrs. Sawamura was distraught at the sight. Apparently, Daichi’s hand was swollen, blood cascading down his arm as it dripped toward his elbow. “Don’t worry about me, mom, just look at Yui. Talk to her.”

Yui denied pressing charges: she was too scared. Even though Daichi and Kuroo had insisted they would protect her, she still resisted. All she wanted was to close that part of her life; to leave that person behind. It was all easier said than done, Daichi knew that much. But he would be there for her through it all, he promised.

Daichi finished out the school year, completing his freshman year of college. Yui stayed at the Sawamura house to complete high school, but never once did she venture back down to Sato. Sometimes, he would walk by and eyeball the house, but he would never approach the front door. Mr. Sawamura was home more in the winter, and it was no secret that he knew how to swing a baseball bat. In fact, he kept a metal one by the front door. Daichi could have sworn at one point, Sato’s name was written on it in sharpie in kanji. But since he wasn’t fluent, he couldn’t be sure, and didn’t dare to ask.

Their relationship continued, but they never became physical. Daichi was scared, not just of the truth about himself, but too afraid to touch Yui, to do something that would remind her of what that monster had done. They danced around the topic, never broaching it. Kuroo had asked him once about their relationship, and Daichi brushed it away. “We’re waiting,” Daichi explained one time, just before he wrapped up the semester.

“For what?” Kuroo asked, a curious eyebrow arched high.

Daichi didn’t have an answer.

Finally, summer came, and Yui had made a decision: she wanted to start the art program at the local community college. Her grades had plummeted her senior year, and with justified cause, but without a scholarship, it was the school left in her budget. Mrs. Sawamura had agreed it was a good idea, and offered for Yui to continue staying with them in Daichi’s old room.

But Daichi knew that wasn’t what Yui wanted. She was already jumpy enough, always looking around every corner, worried that Sato would show up and try to steal her away. But as they all figured out, if Sato could keep collecting checks from the government, which was up until Yui’s 18th birthday, he didn’t give a shit about what she did, especially since she was out of the house.

Daichi made a decision that summer, one that would upset his parents but his mom ended up understanding in the end. He asked Yui to move into an apartment with him. While he forfeited the football team, he still qualified for a lesser academic scholarship at the same college. He just bumped up the amount that he worked at the cafe to help pay for room and board. Yui worked, too. She worked hard, taking classes and she even became a receptionist, and eventually, a curator at the art local gallery. It was a great relationship, in Daichi’s mind, but as the months waned, it was clear something was missing.

They had gone out drinking one night, opting that it was a good way to blow off some steam. Yui dressed up in a tight skirt that showed off her pretty legs, and Daichi and Kuroo wore fitted jeans and button-down shirts and enjoyed each other’s company. And after too many shots and too much pent up steam, by the time the Yui and Daichi had left together, (and Kuroo with some hot, random gentleman), the young couple found themselves in a predicament they hadn’t before. But when Yui whispered in his ear and asked him to ‘ _erase it, and write over it_ ’, he didn’t know what else to do other than oblige. It was a clumsy affair, clearly done by two virgins. Daichi couldn’t deny that he loved Yui, because he did. And perhaps he loved her enough to push past the biological need screaming at his body that this wasn’t _exactly_ what he wanted. But it made her feel so happy, so complete. Who was he to deny her?

A ring came shortly after. It was a small diamond, though it was beautiful, princess cut on a platinum band. When Daichi showed it to Kuroo, the taller man had been ecstatic, over the moon, even. And from there on out, Yui’s happiness was his priority. He would do anything, even at his own detriment, to make sure she was protected, safe, and loved. He would give her the life no one else could. He would fill it with laughter and stability and routine. 

Of course, she said yes. Why wouldn’t she? They married Daichi’s senior year in a small wedding at the local park. Kuroo was both the best man and the man of honor, and the pastor from his mother’s church wed them. And like that, Yui left her last name behind and took her role as a Sawamura quite seriously: it was what she always wanted.

Yui completed her associate's degree and kept working at the gallery, focusing her efforts on studio time. She was fantastic at watercolor, each canvas coming to life in pastels. Daichi loved her work, and would often brag if he would spot one of her paintings while out and about. It didn’t pay the bills, not really, but Daichi found steady work as an entry-level accountant right after graduation, planting himself as a lowly CPA at the up and coming bank, XLT Financial. It afforded them a little larger apartment and for Yui to keep pursuing her work. Daichi never saw it as merely a hobby: it was his wife’s passion, and she was so very talented.

It was then that their life would change again, setting in motion a train of events that once it started, couldn’t be undone. Looking back, Daichi didn’t know if he would ever undo them, even if he was given the chance or a time machine. As long as it led to Tobio, there was nothing he would ever do to change it. Yui would never let him, anyway.

“I’m pregnant!” the announcement left Yui’s lips in an excited squeal as she ran from their en suite bathroom, a plastic stick fisted in her hand. Her face was flushed and tears filled her eyes; tears of joy, finally. Daichi had given her something worth feeling joy over. They were so young, Yui turning 22 during her pregnancy, and the baby was due just a week shy of Daichi’s. 

“You might be birthday twins,” she teased, rubbing her growing stomach and smiling. It was certainly swollen, as it was October and the due date was just two months away. “But I hope he doesn’t cook too long. I’m so ready to meet him.”

Daichi loved the way Yui glowed while she was pregnant, belly full, and a smile permanently fixed to her face. Her eyes were warm again, smiling when she did. They glistened, sparkled, just like her. As the due date came closer, Daichi busied himself at work, picking up extra accounts in order to earn a little more money for the baby. A baby boy at that! And Daichi didn’t want him to go without, not as he had. Or Yui had. He wanted their son to have everything.

It was at a check-up during her final trimester that Yui was diagnosed with a condition she would come to keep from her husband. The doctor called it peripartum cardiomyopathy, a heart condition that she had contracted toward the end of pregnancy. She opted to keep this from Daichi, as she was told that she might get better once the baby was born, explaining that pregnancy was just hard on her body and she just needed to keep up on the medicines they prescribed. So she fought her fatigue, wearing long pants and thick socks to hide overly swollen feet and ankles, never once revealing her extremely low blood pressure or dizzy spells. If Daichi ever noticed, she would lie through her teeth: _‘this is normal, honey_ ’ or ‘ _I’m just tired because our football star won’t stop kicking’_. Daichi bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

Tobio came into the world on December 22nd, nine days shy of his father’s 23rd birthday. Tobio, they chose, meaning ‘to fly’, perfect for a beautiful, dark-haired baby boy with rich blue eyes, just like Daichi’s dad. They were released to go home on Christmas Day. Mrs. Sawamura came home with them, Daichi opting to head back to the office to finish the end of the year accounts, explaining that he’d earn extra holiday pay.

Yui couldn’t hide it then, not anymore, not from Mrs. Sawamura. She was too sharp and had been a mom too long. While her focus was loving and doting on her new grandson, she couldn’t let Yui’s condition slide. She wasn’t recovering well, it was blatantly obvious. However, the daughter-in-law denied it, a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m just tired,” she would explain.

But fainting in the kitchen four weeks postpartum wasn’t something she could explain away. And neither were the test results that came from her examination at the ER. Her husband wracked his brain, demanding answers from doctors who didn’t have any. The fluid that had built up her lungs was making it difficult to breathe, and her heart was in worse condition than they had originally thought. 

“What do you mean, ‘than you had _originally_ thought’?” Daichi pressed, doing nothing to govern the fear and terror in his voice. “How long has my wife been sick?”

Daichi was stunned to learn that Yui had been diagnosed since the beginning of November. He was angry, at first. Angry that his wife hid such a thing. But mostly, he was pissed at himself. The doctor had explained the medications she had been on and what they were for, describing the symptoms she came in with and the way that she was suffering. Had Daichi been so consumed with his work that he hadn’t noticed? That he let the woman he had vowed to protect suffer alone? How could he miss something so important?

More tests were run and their stay in the hospital was extended, Yui eventually being transferred to a heart specialist at the beginning of February. Tobio stayed with Daichi’s parents, mostly. But the little infant cried for his mother, for her touch, for her milk, for her soothing comfort. And as Yui’s frail body struggled to maintain weight, she stopped producing milk. This brought on a fresh wave of guilt. “If I can’t feed my own baby, am I even a mother?” she asked Daichi one night, curling over onto herself, strings of IVs and monitors weaving their way from her body, a twisted, convoluted ball and chain; she was a prisoner of her own illness. 

“You are the best mother,” Daichi assured her, kissing her head, running his fingers through chocolate locks of hair. “You’re the best mom and you gave birth to the best son in the world. And you’ll be home soon, and we’ll all be back together.”

Spring came and the sun shined and the warmth of the change of seasons renewed their spirits. Tobio was a fast-growing boy, putting on weight and smiling, his giggles carrying them through the darkest of times. He was so well-loved by everyone; the raven-haired baby captured the hearts of all those around him. His parents and grandparents were smitten, no doubt, as was his Uncle Kuroo. But even the nurses and doctors at the heart hospital couldn’t resist pinching his cheeks or cooing softly at the little one. Wherever Tobio went, he was abundantly loved.

May came and so did Yui’s first, and only, mother’s day celebration. She was able to come home from the hospital, showing some signs of improvement. Her body wasn’t perfect, but her morale was high and she just wanted to be with her boys. Daichi spoiled her, going all out: a huge, homemade breakfast, even gifting her flowers and paint supplies. Everything he could give her, he did. But Tobio’s laughter was perhaps the most precious gift, for the expression it brought to her pallid and delicate face was something that Daichi could never forget, not as long as he lived. Photos filled cameras and memory cards, eternal embodiments of memories that Tobio would be too young to recall.

Yui loved her son and her husband through her final days. Even though she was high on the transplant list, the ticking clock made it all the more clear that a match wouldn’t come soon. And if it did, her sickly body and weakened immune system would make her a poor candidate, diminishing her resolve for a successful surgery. 

It was late July, and a heavy shot of morphine had been injected into her IV to help satiate the pain the fluid in her chest caused. “It’s beautiful, I think,” Yui explained to her husband as she leaned against the side of the bed. Daichi barely recognized her with the breathing tubes leaving her nose and all the damn cords she was connected to. 

“What’s beautiful, baby?” Daichi asked, leaning forward to touch her arm. Her skin was cool, a symptom of her weak heart’s inability to pump blood properly throughout her small body. She always felt cold now, like ice.

“My life with you,” she answered earnestly, eyes shimmering as they had once before when Tobio was just a peanut, something planted, a person in progress.

“You really think that?” Daichi inquired, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

“Sure, what more could I have asked for?” She blinked heavily, her eyelids moving in slow motion as if her long lashes were weighing them down. Before Daichi could answer, Yui already had a response prepared. “I was selfish, and you loved me anyway.”

The brunette had to laugh at that, though it lacked joy. “In what way were you ever selfish, Yui?”

“I knew how you felt,” she explained, speech slowing under the effects of the pain meds. Her brown eyes became just a little more glassy, her pupils just a little rounder. “I’ve known this whole time, but I let you love me anyway.”

“What are you going on about?” he asked, trying to keep a humor to his voice, doing his damndest to keep his chest from constricting too tightly.

“When you remarry, Daichi, marry someone you're supposed to,” she explained cryptically. “Don’t worry about anyone other than you and Tobio. I just want you to be happy.” She let out a sleepy little yawn as she closed her eyes. “You both deserve to be loved.”

“Thank you for giving me our son.” 

Though which of them spoke those words aloud, Daichi would never remember, as the sound of the flatlining machine, paired with the earth-shattering break in his heart, drowned them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to thank my sweet friend (who is not even in the Haikyyuu fandom) for helping me with all the medical stuff in this chapter. [Meaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meaka/pseuds/Meaka), you are a saint and thank you so much for your assistance. It means the world! If y'all like AOT/SNK ships, this girl is the place to visit!
> 
> Also, I know this chapter was a lot to digest, and I hope it leaves you with a better understanding of our favorite dad, Daichi. There will be more we explore with his past relationship, but I promise the humor and fluff will return soon. 
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for your kind comments and kudos. You have been amazing and it's truly an honor to share this story with you all. Your continued support is just immeasurable. Stay healthy and be well, my friends.
> 
> Next time: Suga reacts


	8. Red, Red Wine (and whiskey, too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Today's Labor Day here in the US, which means I didn't have to go to work so instead I labored away at this chapter (it's not really labor because I love it so much, but ya know lol!) Anyway, I know last chapter hit us hard, so here's some fun. I know it's a tad bit shorter than the chapters I've brought you before, but it was easier to split up into 2 parts and you'll soon see why. 
> 
> See you at the bottom! :)

_ Oh my god oh my god oh my god. _

Those three words replayed in Suga’s head in an infinite loop, like his entire ability to think had short-circuited and he was stuck on autopilot. His feet felt light as air as he made his way down the sidewalk to where his car was parked out front of Daichi’s house. He didn’t really remember putting his empty crockpot in the back seat, nor did he recall starting his car, putting it into reverse, and driving away down the dark street. In fact, he really didn’t remember much at all until the Bluetooth calling system in his car started ringing. He finally realized he was making an outgoing call.

“Suga-chan?” Tooru sounded breathless as he wheezed into the receiver, almost as if he had been doing cardio.

But Tooru didn’t do cardio with the exception of Sundays.

“Please tell me you’re on some kind of a run or something right now.”

There was a delay on Tooru’s end before his voice came out teasing and syrupy. “Well, I may or may not be  _ exercising _ .”

“Oh  _ god _ ,” Suga groaned, doing everything in his power to keep from slamming his forehead repeatedly into the steering wheel.

“Oi, Tooru! How many times have I told you to not answer the fucking phone during sex!” It was Hajime’s voice now, loud and stern and clearly very close to wherever Tooru was, sounding as if he was in his ear.

“It wasn’t  _ during _ ,” Tooru protested. Suga didn’t have to see his best friend to know he was wearing that stupid, infamous shit-eating grin and probably nothing else.

Now the school nurses’ stomach was churning for two reasons. “Tooru, you’re so disgusting.”

“I mean, like, right now, technically?” A pause. “...Yes.”

Suga would need a bleach-soaked, wire-toothed scrub brush to clean that disturbing mental image from his mind. Unfortunately, thanks to college, Suga would never have to use his imagination too hard to picture what those two were up to. “You are a horrible friend.”

Tooru was unphased by this comment. “How was hot dad-chan’s house? Did you get some action?”

Suga blinked steadily, thankful that he was sitting at the world’s longest red light. “We kissed.”

“You kissed!” Tooru’s yelp of delight damn-near punctured Suga’s eardrums.

From somewhere in the background came a gruff, “stop shouting, Shittykawa!”

“Uh, yeah…”

When Tooru noticed that Suga’s reply didn’t match his own enthusiasm, his voice dropped. “So why do you sound sad about it? Was he a bad kisser or something?”

There it was, the million-dollar question. That was why zoned-out Suga had called his best friend, wasn’t it? Because he just kissed a guy for the first time in years, and it was a hot guy, who was nice and smelled good and worked hard and was clearly a responsible dude, who also had a smoking hot body and a warm smile and…

“No it was a fantastic kiss, especially as far as first kisses go. A real chart-topper, Mariah Carey double platinum.” And it really was, his lips were still tingling at the memory, the sensation buzzing like static in his brain.

“So? Then what’s the deal?” he sounded extremely put out. 

“Um, I kissed him and it turns out the dude has a dead wife.”

Nothing could have prepared Suga for the near ear-shattering silence that filled the interior of his little car. He didn’t know what he was expecting as far as a reaction. For Tooru to yell, maybe? Laugh and say, ‘that’s not something to joke about, Suga-chan’. Or maybe just a series of surprised expletives.

“Tooru?” Suga asked after a moment, the only thing he could hear was the slow roll of his tires over the pavement. 

“Where are you?”

“I’m leaving the suburbs and headed back into the city.”

“Take the Miller St. exit and get to my house  _ now _ !”

Suga heard Tooru yell, ‘Iwa-chan, pants!’ before the line disconnected.

\---------

“You guys realize you both have to work tomorrow, right?” Hajime asked as he watched his husband pull out two very large Costco super value bottles of wine from the fridge.

“And you realize you need to mind your business, right Iwa-chan?” Tooru looked up from behind his glasses as he stuck a corkscrew in the first bottle. He stabbed the cork with enough enthusiasm and malice that Hajime visibly shivered.

“We’re not drinking all of this tonight, Hajime, but thank you for the concern,” Suga assured him, resting a pale hand on Hajime’s firm shoulder. 

“We fucking might be!” Tooru growled as he popped the cork, the sound reverbing through the kitchen.

Both Hajime and Suga sighed simultaneously. They knew there was no stopping the tall brunette now that the cork was undone. That particular sound usually triggered something in Tooru - he came a bit unbottled as the wine did.

“Tooru, you’re doing that thing again that we discussed.” Hajime raised his dark brows and widened his green eyes as if giving a silent warning.

However, as usual, the taller of the two husbands was completely unphased. “I haven’t the faintest idea to what you are referring, Iwa-chan.”

“ _ Meddling _ ,” he all but growled as he eyed the brunette, Tooru placing two stemless wine glasses down on the heavy granite countertop. Tooru began filling both glasses with a bright red wine, completely ignoring his life partner.

“Okay,” Tooru said finally, handing one of the extremely full glasses over to his best friend. “Please spill the deets on your new boyfriend’s widower status.”

“What the fuck, Trashykawa?” Hajime asked, completely appalled by his husband’s blunt statement. Appalled, it would seem, but not surprised.

Suga shotgunned the first glass of cheap cabernet, letting the alcohol warm his chest as the semi-sweet drink made it’s way down his throat. He set the glass back down on the countertop and looked at the married couple, who were now staring him, twin looks of surprise painted on their expressions.

“First of all,” Suga stated, holding up an impatient finger, “he is not my boyfriend. We just kissed and watched Transformers.”

“ _ Transformers _ ?” Hajime mouthed, glancing over at his husband. Tooru shrugged.

“And secondly, I don’t know if he’s  _ technically _ a widower, because I don’t know if they were married. I just know that Tobio told me that his mom died.” That part hurt the most by far, the fact that the sweet 6-year-old had revealed just exactly why his dad was a single father. Suga would have never guessed, honestly. 

“Shit,” Hajime said under his breath.

“How long ago?” Tooru asked.

Suga shook his head. “I don’t know. I have no idea, guys.”

“Does he know you know?” 

Another head shake. “No, he doesn’t. Tobio told me when we were alone and Daichi was cleaning the kitchen.”

“I can’t listen to any more of this about my subordinate,” Hajime conceded, though made no move to leave the kitchen. In fact, he reached over and latched onto Tooru’s hand that was clutching onto the wine glass, guiding it to his own lips so Hajimie could take a long, exasperated sip. 

“Iwa-chan! That’s mine!” Tooru scolded, ripping the glass away from his husband.

“You have plenty,” the darker brunette deadpanned. Tooru couldn’t argue with that fact.

“Okay, so did you kiss him before or after learning this information?”

Suga grimaced, leaning into the counter. “After,” he mumbled, honey eyes finding his socked feet.

“Pardon?” Tooru asked, leaning forward. To Suga, who knew every single one of Tooru’s flaws and insecurities, it was pretty rare for him to see his best friend as intimidating or scary. But right now, with that incriminating, almost disappointed tone, he was absolutely terrifying. “Koushi Sugawara, you kissed him  _ after _ learning this information?” He let out an angry, frustrated breath. “Jesus Christ. Hajime did you hear that?”

Hajime had, during his husband’s tirade, found an empty glass of his own to fill with wine. “No comment,” he stated flatly as he took a sip, leaning over to refill Suga’s.

“What was I supposed to do?” Suga asked, suddenly feeling defensive. “He asked to kiss me and I just--”

“Woah, Woah, Woah! He  _ asked _ ?!” Tooru’s rich hazel eyes were back to shimmering. “That’s actually really sweet!”

“Yeah, it was adorable and I really wanted to kiss him and I couldn’t just say - ‘wait, hold on, before we kiss for the first time, can you please give me the details on your dead wife? Thanks.’”

“He’s right, Tooru,” Hajime agreed. “That would be kinda shitty.”

“Yes, I understand--”

“Like you,” Hajime whispered under his breath, but Tooru didn’t seem to notice over the sound of his own fervent talking.

“-- that you couldn’t  _ now _ that you’ve given me more detail. But I just want you to be careful, Koushi. I really do. I know how soft that little heart of yours is.”

“It’s not  _ my _ heart I’m worried about,” Suga admitted, refilling his glass the rest of the way. “It’s his. And Tobio’s. I mean, I was prepared for a divorce or for them to be separated or something. But for her to have passed away… that’s…”

“A lot.” 

Suga nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But like, am I equipped to handle that though?”

“Suga, do you like the guy?” Hajime asked, arm now wrapped around his husband’s slender waist.

“So much,” the nurse admitted as he sighed into his rapidly emptying wine glass.

“Then here is my one piece of advice,” the businessman stated clearly, pulling Tooru closer into him. The taller brunette leaned down to rest his head on Hajime’s shoulder. “You find that person and you care about them, you make it work. I know you’ve only had a handful of dates and interactions, but I believe you when you say that you care about the guy. He is a good dude on every account, as far as I’m concerned. He’s only been at my branch for a month and he’s  _ beloved _ . Even Asahi isn’t afraid of Daichi, and you guys know how he’s skittish of most people.”

Suga and Tooru nodded at that sentiment. Asahi was a sweet man and it was hard for him to open up and not be wary of people. Suga and Tooru had met him a handful of times at company parties and outings that were open to family and friends. The man was literally the definition of ‘gentle giant’.

“So if you care about him, and you think you want more with him, you have to be willing to wade through the shit and the baggage. He has a kid and there’s another element to that. Children can complicate things--” Suga didn’t miss the way Tooru squirmed under those words, but Hajime only held him tighter, strong fingers possessively and protectively wrapped around his husband’s hip bone, “--but it’ll be okay, Suga. Because it’s you. You two just need to have a conversation before things go too much further.”

“Thank you, that’s really wise, Hajime,” Suga acknowledged, looking up at his friends. “Thank you.”

“Wow, Iwa-chan is a real philosopher,” Tooru bitingly commented out of the corner of his mouth, earning him a playful squeeze to his hip. “Ouch, Dr. Phil! Hands to yourself!”

“That’s not what you said 30 minutes ago,” Hajime all but growled, pushing his nose slowly against his husband’s temple, causing Tooru’s face to flush and his body to quiver.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Suga blanched, setting his empty glass on the counter.

“Suga-chan, you can’t drive! You’ve had too much to drink,” Tooru pointed out, slowly coming down from the haze his husband had him in.

The ashen-haired nurse sighed, knowing that statement was true. 

“And we have an extra set of your scrubs here, I think,” Hajime stated. “Babe, didn’t you just wash them and hang them up the other day? When he came over here before his date?”

“Oh yes!” Tooru nodded. “Suga honey, they’re in the guest room. Just stay the night here with me and then we can go to work together. It’ll be just like old times.” Tooru reached out his hand and took Suga’s in his, interlacing their fingers.

Hajime smiled down at his husband and best friend. “You guys go watch X-Files or something, I’ll make you some snacks.”

Suga groaned as he was lead out of the kitchen. “Oh my god,  _ not  _ the X-Files again!”

\-------

At about 5:45 a.m., Daichi decided that sleep was pointless and if he had to be awake, he needed to be productive about it. He got up and tore the blankets off, slowly moving around the room and finding a clean pair of athletic shorts from the drawer, foregoing a shirt. He peeked into his son’s room to find Tobio sound asleep still, spread out like a starfish, snoozing gently. Daichi shut the door and made his way downstairs to his home office that housed the treadmill. He pulled on socks and running shoes, giving his muscles a quick stretch.

At 6 a.m. sharp, he fired up the machine, finding the perfect playlist on Spotify before starting his run. As the music blared through his wireless headphones, he let the high of his endorphins carry him, his insecurities and shortcomings pouring from him in the form of matted sweat.

Last night, he dreamt of Yui. He hadn’t dreamt of her in a long time, not for several years, in fact. They were up on the roof of his childhood home, looking at the stars, just like they had countless times before. She looked so young and sweet, freckles dotting her pale cheeks, and her laugh, god, it was her laugh, the one Tobio inherited. He would always be thankful for that fact, that he could still hear her warm giggle every day, even long after she was gone.

“Be happy, Daichi,” she had told him with a wide, impish grin, almond eyes shining in the orange light of the tall street lamps. Those words sounded so much like the ones she had told him the day she died, where she had the audacity to call herself ‘selfish’. Daichi would never understand her reasoning. Yui never asked him for anything, never once. Everything he sacrificed or gave up for her sake was solely his idea and his choice, and he would make those same choices over and over again, infinite times, as long as it meant that Tobio was here with him now. 

He loved kissing Suga last night, in fact, he still couldn’t entirely believe it happened. It was a sweet kiss, like something that innocent teenagers would share. But it was important, and it meant more than Daichi could ever describe. That kiss was the first time that Daichi ever felt  _ right _ , like he was being completely himself. And it wasn’t just because he was kissing a guy, because that wasn’t it, not completely. 

He knew that because a few years after Yui’s death, he and Kuroo had gone out to a gay bar (Kuroo’s idea) in an attempt to get Daichi out of the house and maybe just see what the scene was about. After one too many tequila shots, he ended up making out with an exceptionally hot blonde who went by the name of Yuji. He had a tongue ring and an undercut that was wildly sexy. They left together, Daichi’s brain feeling extremely foggy from the alcohol and the thrill of finally getting to act on his sexuality.

However, back at the hotel, things fell apart when Daichi realized that Yuji’s name sounded too eerily similar to his late wife’s, and he ended up crying. The foxy blonde wasn’t angry, in fact, he was really sweet, and he ordered room service and let Daichi cry it out while they both ate their weight in molten chocolate lava cake. Yuji offered Daichi his number the next morning, telling him that virgins were cute and he had a really hot bod, but Daichi was too embarrassed to ever call him or offer to see him again.

Kissing Suga wasn’t like that, though. It didn’t make him anxious about Yui, at least not while it was happening. He had fought the guilt all night before finally cracking and shedding a few tears. He resisted calling Kuroo; he felt as if he used his best friend as an emotional crutch. Yes, Kuroo loved her, too, that much was obvious. But it still wasn’t his cross to bear; it was Daichi’s.

After 45 minutes, his watch beeped, prompting him that his alarm was going off and he needed to wrap up his workout. He hopped off the treadmill and stretched his burning calves and thighs before heading up to his en suite bath to take a hot shower and definitely, not even a little bit, think about Suga and his soft lips.

Once showered and dressed into a navy pair of slacks and a simple white button-down, he made his way to his son’s room. Tobio was basically in the same position he had been before, a heavy sleeper just like his father. Most nights, anyway, just not the night after he kissed the man of his dreams.

“Hey buddy, it’s time to wake up,” Daichi cooed, pushing the little boy’s dark locks from his forehead. Tobio groaned but other than that made no further indication that he was actually alive or willing to start the day.

“Tobes,” the young father whispered again, cupping a warm and chubby cheek in his open palm. “Baby it’s time for breakfast.”

One sleepy, cobalt eye open, narrowed at his dad, clearly intrigued under the guise of food. “Bweakfast?” he mumbled sleepily, smacking his mouth, slurring his words in his dreamlike state.

“Yeah, how do pancakes and sausage sound?”

“M’kaay,” he mumbled, sitting up slowly, hanging onto his dad’s broad shoulder for support. 

“Let’s go get you ready for school.” Daichi stared down at his little boy before adding, “Yeah, we totally need to brush your hair.”

“School?” he asked with a yawn. “So I’ll see Nurse Suga again today?”

“Probably,” Daichi commented with a casual shrug, trying his best to keep his heart rate in check. “I’m sure you’ll see him around.”

“I like Nurse Suga.”

“You do?”

“Mhmm. He’s nice.”

Daichi chuckled. “He sure is.”

“And he’s really pretty.”

_ He sure is. _

Helping his son to his feet, Daichi told the little boy to use the restroom and wash up while the young dad set to work at making the twin bed, laying out Tobio’s outfit for the day, and making sure his backpack had his spare inhaler and take home folder in it. 

When Tobio came back into the room, Daichi told him to get dressed and then come downstairs for breakfast. The dad went ahead first, prepping all the ingredients for chocolate chip pancakes, setting out some grapes, and slicing an apple before putting it on a plate on the island for Tobio to enjoy while the meal was cooking.

Finally, the boy emerged, dressed in a pair of light-wash jeans and a gray t-shirt with Lightning McQueen on the front. He looked only slightly more awake as he climbed onto the tall barstool, popping a grape in his mouth.

“Daddy, can I have my milk?” he asked, eyeballing his father incredulously as if completely offended that his father forgot something so vital.

“Oh, sure sweetheart, one moment,” he commented, flipping the pancakes to their opposite side before abandoning them in order to get Tobio a cup of milk.

Tobio sipped it and hummed happily, fully awake and in a better mood. He found a way to embody the polar bear (or any other bear, for that matter) when it came to being woken up. Thankfully, much like a two-ton creature emerging from hibernation, food was a good motivator.

After serving the pancakes and sliding Tobio his serving, Daichi took a quick opportunity to reply to the texts he hadn’t looked at the night before. There was nothing from Suga, and he pretended not to be disappointed by that fact. Daichi would respect him if he wanted a little space and would try contacting him later in the day.

However, he had several texts from Kuroo.

**Kuroo [7:15 p.m.]:** So did you stay home or not?

**Kuroo [7:45 p.m.]:** I told your mom about how Sato called you and she wants me to come visit.

**Kuroo [8:23 p.m.]:** Ignore this text if you want me to come visit.

**Kuroo [9:56 p.m.]:** I swear to god you’re no fun.

**Kuroo [11:13 p.m.]:** Did you DIE?!?!?!?!

Daichi, deciding he should probably go ahead and respond before his friend sent the entirety of the local police force to his doorstep, began typing away on the screen. 

**Me [7:33 a.m.]:** Sorry, I was with Suga last night.

**Me [7:35 a.m.]:** We kissed…

\----

The week carried on and Daichi found himself extremely busy at work. Hajime had strolled into his office right after their usual weekly Wednesday morning staff meeting with a very exasperated look on his face. Daichi hadn’t worked with the man long, but he usually looked so level-headed and put together. Daichi was sure it would take nothing short of a natural disaster to fluster the usually stoic CFO.

He was right.

Hajime walked into the room and sat in one of the wing-backed chairs, hands folded in his lap, body language calm to try to counter the strained look on his face.

“What’s up Hajime?” Daichi asked. Next to him, Asahi squirmed, apparently picking up on some bad vibes.

“It’s the CEO. He needs us to do something.”

“Okay?” Daichi pressed, lowering his pen and sliding back in his swivel chair, giving his boss his full attention.

“Apparently, a Saudi company has approached him with some massive loan request to help fund the construction of a new power plant here in the state.”

“Okay…” was all the DCFO could think to say, a little confused on where this was going and why Hajime seemed distressed. That sounded like a good thing. A lot of work, but still, a positive if they got the account. Daichi knew that many other banks and investors would probably be looking to jump in on the ground level of such a massive undertaking, one looking to underbid the other. But it wasn’t just about money, it was about reputation and representation - who was going to be more accessible throughout the whole process, and who was just going to disburse funds, dip out, and only mail off debt statements each month. “So I take it he wants us to work up a proposal?”

“Yes.” Hajime cleared his throat and looked Daichi square in the eye. His emerald eyes were piercing, almost intimidating. 

“There is a catch?”

Asahi swallowed thickly, looking jittery from behind his laptop screen - that man could read a room.

“There is…” Hajime removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “They want the proposal by Friday.”

Daichi felt his blood run cold and the moisture leave his mouth. “Like,  _ this _ Friday?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Yeah, like this fucking Friday,” the CFO growled, leaning back in the chair, pushing his palms into his eyes in an apparent effort to stave off a migraine. Daichi knew the cursing wasn’t directed at him, tension was just high. This could be a major account, especially before the end of the year. It would seal the deal on their quarterly quota,  _ hell _ , even their yearly one.

“What’s the build bid amount?” Daichi asked.

“7 billion.”

Asahi wolf-whistled. Hajime groaned. Daichi rolled up his sleeves. 

“Let’s get to work, then.”

So they did, busting ass all week. Asahi took over Daichi’s minor accounts (well, more minor accounts, as DCFO, every client for him was massive) and the department sent up a few CPAs and loan officers from the other floors to help hash out the smaller numbers of the project. Daichi still had to leave work on time every day to be able to pick up Tobio from school, but he took his laptop and briefcase home each night, staying up into the wee hours of the morning to crunch data. He knew Hajime was doing the same.

Unfortunately, this didn’t leave much room for Daichi’s love life. He sent Suga an apology text, letting him know what was going on, and that he was sorely missed. To his pleasure, the nurse replied with ‘I understand, I’m babysitting Tooru - he’s miserable without his man.’ And in a subsequent text, one that was very flirty and sent a shiver down Daichi’s spine, the object of his affection also stated - ‘and I understand his pain’ with a very suggestive winking emoji.

Yeah, Daichi  _ really _ needed to get his fucking job done.

By the time Friday morning rolled around, the pair had devoted almost every single waking second to creating a flawless, straightforward proposal, down to the very last line item. Daichi and Hajime met at the office early, Suga offering to keep Tobio in his office at the school until classes started so Daichi didn’t have to worry. They dressed out in their best suits and shiniest shoes, ready to meet the foreign businessmen and give their offer.

Thankfully, the deal panned out, the company accepting the offer on a vote of 4 to 1. Once they said their goodbyes and sent them on their way, Daichi and Hajime collapsed in the CFO’s office, Hajime opening up his desk whiskey. It was an expesnive brand: top shelf, 30-year, double barrel.

Daichi was relieved to find out he was not the only one who considered desk whiskey as a viable option.

“S-sir!” stuttered the large assistant, glancing around nervously. “It’s barely past noon!” 

“We have put in over 70 hours this week on the job and our commission from that loan agreement is going to be bear fucking minimum because the CEO is taking the glory for it.” Hajime did not look pleased as he poured the amber liquid into a crystal clear highball glass. He filled another and handed it to his second in command. Daichi didn’t hesitate to take a sip as soon as it made it to his hand. The burn was a welcome and much-deserved ending to their week.

“Iwa-chan!” 

All three men whipped their heads around at the familiar, unmistakable call of Hajime’s husband, the pretty brunette principal standing in the doorway, a huge smile plastered on his face. Though as his hazel eyes scanned the room, they narrowed slightly, as if in concern. 

“Drinking?” Tooru inquired, worry in his voice. “In victory or defeat?”

It was then a large smile split Hajime’s handsome face in two as he held up a ‘V’ in his free hand, the other still curled around his highball glass.

Tooru squealed and jumped up and down, running into the room to throw his arms around his husband’s neck and plant a wet, excited kiss on his lips. “Iwa-chan! I knew you could do it!”

“Thanks, babe,” Hajime said, smiling into his kiss. Daichi had never seen the man show so many emotions, but it was a good day after all. They made the impossible happen. “What are you doing here, by the way?”

Tooru tilted his head to the side, a coy and boyish grin occupying his slender face. “Well, lucky for you, I booked us a couple’s massage! I took a half-day off work to come and kidnap and spoil my beloved Iwa-chan.” He punctuated that sentiment with another slow and tender kiss, one that caused Daichi’s face to heat up and Asahi to turn away.

“You’re the best,” Hajime admitted, leaning into his husband’s touch. 

“Well,  _ duh _ .” Tooru rolled his eyes and scrunched his face as if totally appalled he could be possibly be considered anything different.

At that moment, Asahi’s cell phone rang. Since he was an assistant and he moved a lot between offices, his corporate number was a company cell phone instead of a traditional landline.

“Azumane speaking,” the burly man answered. He was quiet a moment, listening. “Uh, yes, Mr. Sawamura is in Mr. Iwaizumi’s office going over the details of the closing.” Another moment passed, and Asahi twisted his face in confusion and looked at Daichi. “Um, yeah, I’ll ask him.” He lowered the phone, putting his hand over the mouthpiece. “Um, Daichi? Were you expecting a visitor?” 

It was Daichi’s turn to be confused. A visitor? “I don’t think so?”

“Tooru, did you bring Koushi with you?” The beautiful brunette shook his head. 

“I didn’t, but now that you say it, that would have been a cool idea.”

“We weren’t expecting anyone?” Asahi explained to what Daichi assumed was the receptionist on the first floor. He glanced at his supervisor once more. “Can they send him up?”

Daichi only nodded the affirmative and Asahi passed the message along, ending the phone call. The young DCFO scratched his head, deep in thought. Who was coming up to see him? He didn’t know anyone in town that was present and accounted for or still at the school.

“So where are we getting massages?” Hajime asked his husband through another long sip of his whiskey. His glass was almost empty, as was Daichi’s. 

“It's a surprise, my love!” Tooru explained with a giggle. “But afterward, we’re going out to that rooftop patio place. I hear they have live music tonight and it’s that gorgeous cover band. I want to dance with you!”

Hajime smiled, though he did his damndest to look annoyed. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll go.”

Finally, a knock fell on the office door, and Daichi turned his head as Asahi opened it, revealing a sight he wasn’t expecting, not in a million years (though in reality, he really should have).

“Hey hey, what’s up Truffle Shuffles?” asked one Tetsurou Kuroo as he entered the space. “Woah? Are we drinking at work? Fuck yeah, sign me up!”

Daichi didn’t know whether to cry tears of joy or embarrassment, knowing full well the shenanigans that were about to ensue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say a few things real quick:
> 
> I am absolutely BLOWN away! Your comments have been so kind, caring, thoughtful, and insightful. You guys really make this writing journey worth it, and I'm so sorry I made y'all sad but now we're about to have a Kuroo/Tooru dynamic I know you guys have all been looking forward to.
> 
> Please, please keep the comments coming, they seriously mean the absolute world to me! If you want to chat or say hi or look at my stupid memes on Tumblr, it's under the same name.
> 
> Love you all, 100% mean it!!! Have a great week and stay healthy!!
> 
> Also, full disclosure, I have no idea what a CFO and DCFO do all day. Like Tooru, my master's degree is in elementary education and I hate math lol. So this is all made up but I hope you liked it anyway. Also, I am a simp for Yuji so I snuck him in here. *shrugs*
> 
> Next time: shenanigans


	9. Shenanigans: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughs*
> 
> Okay folks, here's part one. That's right - _**part one**_ of what I'm going to call the 'Shenanigans Saga'. 
> 
> There is a scene here where a dance takes place, and you should totally listen to 'You Are the Reason' by Calum Scott (thank you to my girl aj--honey for helping me pick the perfect song!! I appreciate you!!) It is so beautiful and I think totally fits how the character is feeling. 
> 
> As always, I don't have a Beta editor and if my job asks, I totally worked on work things all day and totally not on this.
> 
> Okay, enough of my rambling, see you at the bottom for more ramblings.

“Kuroo?” Daichi practically yelled, scrambling out of his seat, suddenly wishing he had a lot more whiskey in his system. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, hopefully drinking,” the tall man remarked, dropping the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder to the padded office floor. “Damn, this place is swanky.” He let out a low whistle as his golden eyes scanned the room.

“Why thank you,” Tooru rasped, pressing a flattered hand into his chest. “That would be  _ my _ handiwork.”

“God damn, are you an interior designer?”

“It was my minor, yes.” Tooru flashed an award-winning smile, reminiscent of a toothpaste ad, causing his husband to groan next to him.

“Please don’t get him started on this,” Hajime pleaded, nearly sounding desperate as he sucked down the last of his well-aged bourbon. 

Daichi crossed the room, putting a firm hand on the bedhead’s bicep. “Tetsu, seriously, what the fuck are you doing here?” he tried to keep his voice at a whisper, but he knew the panic was seeping out and making his question louder than he had initially intended.

“Oh Dai-chan, who is your friend?” The sing-song tone was enough to make the little vein in his forehead throb. 

Kuroo winked down at Daichi and then wiggled free of his grasp, hand extended in front of him. “Hi, there! I am Tetsurou Kuroo, but you can call me Kuroo.” He gave a devilish grin as he locked eyes with the brunette principal. “And you should call him Truffles-chan, if you’re gonna give him a nickname.”

“Ohh, I like it!” Tooru’s hazel eyes were wide, almost maddened with opportunity, the evil wheel in his brain spinning a hundred miles an hour. Daichi could practically see the steam pouring out of his ears as he connected dots. “Well, it’s so nice to make your acquaintance, Tetsu-chan. My name is Tooru Iwaizumi, and this is my husband and Daichi’s boss, Hajime Iwazumi - he’s my better half.”

“A fairly easy feat when you’re  _ this _ shitty,” Hajime remarked; Tooru did not hesitate to ram a sharp elbow into his husband’s rib cage. 

Kuroo released Tooru’s hand to shake Hajime’s in turn, though the man was slightly slumped in pain. “Nice to meet you guys, I’m Daichi’s best friend.”

Daichi sighed, knowing this was a lost cause. Asahi had crossed the office to stand beside him, clearly nervous with the energy in the room. “Tetsu, this is also my assistant, Asahi Azumane. Asahi, this is Kuroo, who apparently came here unannounced and unplanned from San Francisco. Please just ignore him.”

“N-nice to meet you, s-sir!” Asahi all but yelled, the addition of a new person forcing his volume control to destabilize. He bowed quickly, folding his body at basically a 90-degree angle, imitating what he had done on Daichi’s first day.

“Woah a bow?” Kuroo acknowledged, making an impressed face. He then eyed the tall, amber whiskey bottle sitting on Hajime’s large desk. “Y’all are hardcore for country folk.”

Tooru balked at the comment, dramatically grasping onto his husband’s shoulder as if to simulate catching himself so he didn’t faint. “ _ Country _ folk?” the young principal repeated the title, quite obviously offended. “These shoes are Armani, sir, and these glasses cost more than your flight out here. Do  _ not  _ call us ‘country’! Iwa-chan, kick his ass!”

“How can I kick his ass when I’ve just been assaulted?!”

Daichi immediately put himself between his best friend and his (possibly kind of maybe?) boyfriend’s best friend. “He didn’t mean it, Tooru, I promise. He’s just an idiot.”

“I’m an organic chemist!” Kuroo argued, scrunching his dark eyebrows, stepping back around Daichi. Not that he was hidden well, he was too damn tall.

“He uses his only functioning brain cells for science,” Daichi clarified before directing his gaze back upward. “Tetsu, say you’re sorry.”

“ _ Fine _ ,” the tall chemist huffed, folding his arms across his chest childishly. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“That’s hardly an apology,” Tooru countered, eyes ablaze.

“Now, now, Shittykawa,” Hajime chastised, trying to keep his voice even. “Didn’t we have a massage to get to?” He was clearly fed up with the small crowd that had assembled in his office and was trying to get them all the fuck out. 

“Oh yeah!” he perked right back up, that signature smile lighting up his features. “We do, actually! And then off to go dancing!” He froze, manicured eyebrows flying high on his blemish-free forehead. “Oh! Dai-chan, you and big stupid here should come to the bar, too! And Suga-chan!”

“Oh-oh, the hot nurse?” Kuroo asked, clearly unphased about the insult thrown his direction, shooting a look to his best friend, features morphed into something sinister.

“The  _ very  _ hot nurse,” Tooru clarified, accompanying the comment with a smarmy wink.

“I want to meet the hot nurse! Daichi doesn’t stop talking about him.”

Daichi felt his face heat up, color rushing to his cheeks.  _ Oh god no. _ “That all sounds really fun, truly, but I don’t have a babysitter.”

“Asahi, you’re good with kids aren’t you?” Tooru asked, directing his attention to the big man who was now basically hiding behind his boss, using Daichi as a shield to avoid attention.

“That would add up, he looks like Jesus,” Kuroo commented while wearing a wide grin.

“I, umm. My boyfriend,” he squeaked out the word, despite being in a room full of queer men, “umm, he owns a daycare center.”

“He does?” Hajime asked.

“Your boyfriend?”

Asahi nodded, running a nervous hand down the back of his thick neck. “Uh, yes, actually. His name is Yuu Nishinoya, but he’s kind of like Suga and just goes by his last name, only a little shortened. The kids call him Mr. Noya.”

“So? Are you free to babysit tonight then?” Tooru pressed, crossing the room and grabbing the beefy man by his square shoulders. “We’ll pay handsomely! Don’t you think Dai-chan deserves a night out with his best friend who traveled all this way?”

“I can text N-Noya and make sure,” Asahi stated, anxiously scuffing his toe into the carpet, looking away from Tooru’s intense gaze. “But I’m sure it would be okay. We would be happy to help.”

“Then it’s decided!” Tooru clasped his hands in an act of finality, a superior, smug look fixed to his expression. “Daichi, I’ll have Suga text you all the deets.” He then turned to his husband. “C’mon, stud! Let’s go get slicked up and rubbed down!”

Hajime set his empty whiskey glass on his desk with a little too much force. “Daichi, Asahi,” his intimidating green gaze found his two co-workers. “Good work this week - take the afternoon off. Lock up this place behind me. We’ll catch up soon.”

Daichi nodded with a look of gratitude and Asahi let out a soft, “thank you, s-sir!” before the married couple disappeared through the office door with a flourish.

Kuroo turned to his lifelong friend, eyes narrowed as they flashed mischievously. “Well, how about it, Truffles? Gonna give me a tour of this cornfield or what?”

\----------

“So how exactly small did you think the town was?” Daichi asked through a sigh as they drove down the street. It was after lunch, so thankfully the traffic had thinned out a little.

Kuroo shrugged from the passenger seat as he looked at the window. “I dunno, I just thought you’d live like, on a cattle farm or something.”

“Kuroo, it’s the biggest city in this state.” He paused a moment before adding, “and I’m an accountant. Why would I live on a dairy farm? Or any other kind of farm, for that matter?"

“Fuck, I don’t know. I thought that’s all they had available for housing.” The darker brunette scoffed, “and wow, this is the biggest city? What a bragging right for a  _ flyover  _ state.”

“Don’t just insult a whole territory, Kuroo.”

“Still, it’s small for something that’s supposed to be a ‘city’! You have like, seven tall buildings downtown. I can’t believe you guys actually have Uber here. You know I just told him ‘XLT Financial’ and he just knew where it was. No GPS or anything.” The bedhead sounded floored by that comment. “And I’m fairly certain I saw a biplane at the airport? Like, an  _ actual _ biplane, Daichi.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, but that did absolutely nothing to curb his friend’s tirade.

“And I had to layover in Dallas. DALLAS! I counted at least a dozen ten-gallon cowboy hats in my terminal alone and I was there for like, barely 45 minutes.”

The young dad took the exit off the highway, driving them to his house. He was so tired he felt like he was about to drop after hammering it out at work the last three days, but he knew he needed to shake it out because not only was his very best friend here, but he was going out to drinks and dancing with the one and only  _ Nurse Suga. _ And Tooru would be there, too, and this was basically going to be a disaster.

Oh fuck, this was going to be an  _ absolute _ disaster. 

Kuroo was still on his rant about how small the seats were on the airplane and how they didn’t serve liquor on short flights and he barely got a bag of peanuts and none of the flight attendants were cute. The list went on and on before Daichi finally interrupted - “why didn’t you tell me that you were coming?”

“I did.”

An irritated huff left Daichi’s mouth. “ _ When _ ?”

“When I texted you and I said, ‘ignore this text if you want me to come visit’ and then you didn’t say anything. I took it as my sign to book a flight.” He explained it so nonchalantly, as if it were the most simple, logical thing in the world. For such an intelligent human being, Kuroo’s idiocy was absolutely unprecedented. 

“That wasn’t a text like, ‘oh hey, I did actually book a flight and I’ll be there Friday’”, Daichi deadpanned, exasperated that he even had to clarify that.

“Yeah, and? Maybe I wanted to surprise you.” Kuroo’s voice took on a pouty quality and it made Daichi feel guilty.

“I _ am _ surprised and I’m also glad you’re here, really,” he added, glancing over at his best friend while they sat at a stop sign. “I’m just ill-prepared.”

“I’ll tell you what’s ill-prepared, my friend - your love life.” He turned in the passenger seat, looking Daichi square in the face. The driver brushed it off, returning his attention to the road, though he felt his face heating up. “I’m here for an intervention. It’s a three day weekend, and I’m gonna make you make the most of it. I just can’t believe that whole plan for tonight just fell in our laps! How lucky!”

“Super lucky,” Daichi mumbled under his breath as he pulled into his driveway. 

They exited the vehicle, Kuroo grabbing his bag and Daichi carried in his briefcase and laptop bag from work. Upon entering the house, Kuroo whistled in admiration. “Damn, this is a fine crib you got yourself, Dai-chan.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Daichi paused a moment, removing his suit coat. “And don’t call my house a crib.”

“‘Kay, I’ll just go back to calling you Truffle Shuffles.”

“I have a six-pack now, Tetsu.”

“Fuck yeah you do!” he laughed, slapping his friend right on his firm stomach. Daichi sputtered and clutched the kitchen counter for support.

“Fuck you,” he coughed, though it was in good jest.

“What time does little man get done with school?” Kuroo inquired, throwing his duffel bag on the kitchen table.

“I need to go pick him up around 3:30.” He glanced at the clock on the stove. It was a little after 1. “So that means I have time for a power nap before running to the school.”

“I would tease you for being an old man, but after waking up early for that flight, a nap sounds totally badass.” To emphasize this point, the chemist yawned and stretched his long limbs over his head, fingers nearly grazing the light fixture positioned above the kitchen island.

“Okay, good,” Daichi stated firmly, working the knot from his tie as he pulled it off his neck. “Let’s go take one. Grab your stuff - you can stay in the guest room.”

Kuroo scrambled to grab his bag and sauntered after the shorter brunette, combat boots pattering as they ascended the wooden staircase. “Guest room? Can’t I just sleep with you?”

Daichi gave an incredulous sneer over his shoulder. “Why though?”

“Like old times?” He made his golden eyes go as wide as they possibly could, letting the yellow, cat-like orbs take on a watery sheen while he jutted out his bottom lip. “C’mooooon, Dai, please?!”

“I bought a house with four bedrooms so I could have my room, Tobio’s room, an office, and a guest room _ for a reason _ ,” Daichi explained, though his rationale was slowly losing momentum as he felt himself caving to that boyish sulk. 

“Baaaaaabbeee,” Kuroo whined, coming up from behind and wrapping his long arms around his best friend’s waist, using his height to his advantage and nuzzling his cheek over Daichi’s short chocolate locks. “Please! We’ve been apart for a month. At least let me take a nap with you!” 

Finally, the shorter man just sighed, no longer willing to put up a fight. The excuse he used in his head was that he was just too tired to keep fighting, but in reality, he actually thought it would be kind of nice to share the bed with his best friend, in a platonic sense.

“No funny business,” he growled, directing them both back toward the master bedroom. Kuroo purred happily, staying latched around his waist until they breached the door.

“You have my scout’s honor!” Kuroo pledged, throwing up his hand in the air and placing the other over his heart as if giving an oath. 

“You were never in the scouts,” Daichi pointed out, stepping over to his dresser, digging through the drawers in an attempt to find some comfy pants to rest in.

“Yeah, yeah, because mom thought it might make me  _ gayer  _ to camp around other boys, but then she let me stay in sports and I showered with them?” Kuroo touched his chin with his forefinger as if deep in thought. “That really didn’t add up for her, did it?”

“No, I’d say it pretty much backfired.” Daichi pushed his friend toward the en suite bathroom, the taller man’s bag still slung over his shoulder. “Go shower or whatever and then take a nap. I gotta set an alarm to pick up Tobes and then I’ll work out the babysitting details with Asahi.”

“Aye, aye, Cap!” Kuroo gave a mock salute before disappearing behind the bathroom door. It didn’t take but a moment for the shower to start. Daichi finished changing and laid on top of the duvet. He wasn’t sure if he was really going to be able to sleep or not, but it would feel nice to just close his eyes and rest. He set an alarm on his phone and sent a quick text to Asahi, followed by a flirty/warning one to Suga: ‘I can’t wait to see you tonight. As a heads up, Kuroo will be with me- Code red.’

With that, he put his phone on vibrate and set it on the nightstand, then closed his eyes. He must have dozed off at some point, because when he slid his eyes back open, his head was resting on Kuroo’s chest, one of the black-haired man’s slender arms wrapped firmly around his waist. “You can go back to sleep, you’ve still got some time,” Kuroo told him, voice quiet.

Daichi hummed in acknowledgment but chose to pull his friend closer, his warmth addicting. They had made it a habit to cuddle like this since they were kids, just enjoying having another person so close.

“I’ve missed you, Tetsu,” he mumbled, voice scratchy and thick with sleep, rubbing his cheek affectionately on Kuroo’s soft, thin t-shirt. The fabric smelled good, and it scratched at his little five o’clock shadow that was forming on his face. 

“You’ve been a bit of a mess, haven’t you, Dai?” Kuroo’s tone was light, almost careful, when he asked that question. It wasn’t accusatory or judgemental - it was an observation, simple and honest. They had been friends for far too long, too tightly interwoven into each other’s lives to let things like that go unnoticed, or unsaid. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, “you could say that.”

Kuroo hummed again, this time, in a way that showed he was worried. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Daichi was quiet for a long moment, focusing his attention on the soothing, affectionate ministrations of Kuroo’s nails on his scalp. “Am I a bad person? If I fall in love with Suga?” But before his best friend could answer, Daichi asked another question. “Am I… am I a bad parent?” That time, the inquiry caused his shoulders to shudder and a quiet sob to claw through his throat. 

“Babe, why would you ever ask that? Either of those things?” he pulled Daichi closer to him, the shorter man curling his fist in the front of Kuroo’s shirt. However, Daichi did not raise his eyes to meet the golden gaze boring down on him. Instead, he focused on the lifeless TV sitting on top of his dresser, choosing to ignore the tears that were burning at his retinas. “You’ve spent your entire life making other people happy - your parents, me, Yui, Tobio. You’ve poured yourself empty. Isn’t it time you let someone fill you up, too?”

Daichi didn’t reply, not with words, at least. He could only let his best friend’s words sink in as he continued to gently sob, allowing them to carry him back into a restful sleep, Kuroo’s hands in his hair and soothing words in his ear. 

\------

“Daddy! Wake up! Stop napping! Uncle ‘Roo is here!” 

It wasn’t the shouting that startled Daichi the most, it was the 45-pound ball of baby Tobio crushing into his ribs that really woke him up.

“Huh? Buddy? What are you doing home?” Daichi blinked his eyes heavily, trying to shake the sleep crusties out. His brain felt like he was in a fog, almost as if he had been in full-fledged hibernation rather than taking an afternoon catnap.

“Uncle Roo picked me up!” he beamed, grabbing at this dad’s hand, trying to pull him up into a sitting position.

At the mention of his name, the tall man practically materialized, poking his head into the master bedroom. “Good afternoon, sunshine! Did you finally get some sleep?”

Daichi glanced between Kuroo and his son. “Did you get him from school?”

“Nope, the kidnappers just brought him back.”

Daichi glared but he knew the heat of it was lost because of his bedhead and the heavy sleep lines imprinted on his cheek. “He picked me up in Nurse Suga’s office! Is it true you’re going on a date?”

Well, that woke him up. Daichi’s brown eyes widened in horror at his best friend, Tobio still sitting on his legs. Kuroo’s grin only broadened across his face, his golden eyes shining deviously. “Did Uncle Roo tell you I’m going on a date?” He was mildly panicking - he wasn’t really ready to have this conversation with Tobio. He was too young and wouldn’t really understand.

“Mhm! He said a nice couple is going to come babysit me and then you and Uncle Roo are gonna go out on a date together.”

Relief washed over Daichi in a vicious wave, soothing the nerves that were standing on end. He felt himself collapsing back on the pillow, heart rate slowing in his chest. “Yeah, we sure are. Are you gonna be good for my friend Asahi and his boyfriend Noya?”

Tobio nodded enthusiastically. “I sure will! Uncle Roo says I get twenty bucks if I’m a good boy!”

Daichi sighed -  _ of course, _ that was the stipulation of the agreement. No matter how many times he had asked Kuroo to  _ not  _ spoil his kid, he did it anyway. He tried to act mad about it, or put out, but when it came down to it, he felt so very blessed that Kuroo cared so much. Honestly, the first year after Yui died had been exceptionally excruciating, and Kuroo was there alongside Daichi’s mom, helping keep Tobio on a routine, taking him to and from daycare and on Daichi’s busiest days, helping with supper and bath time. Kuroo even enjoyed taking his ‘nephew’ to the park or the zoo or the beach, giving Daichi quiet time if he needed it. He honestly had no idea what he or Tobio would do without his best friend, but he didn’t want to think about it. Transitioning to their new life without Kuroo and his mom had been difficult, that was for sure. But now that Kuroo was here, occupying a space he hadn’t before, well - it made Daichi’s heart swell.

So instead of chastising or being upset, the young dad only smoothed his little boy’s hair down and gave him a warm, loving grin. “That’s right, so make sure you stay on your best behavior!”

After hopping out of bed and taking a quick shower, Daichi received a text from Suga instructing them to meet at a rooftop bar back in downtown around 7 p.m., someplace called ‘The Parched Crow’. Once Asahi and Noya arrived and they made their greetings, Daichi explained the bedtime routine, going over the basics of the house, pointing out the first aid kit, Tobio’s favorite blanket, snack drawer, etc. Noya was tiny- a short, wiry man with an energetic smile and a very bold, yet totally fitting, single highlight of blonde in his otherwise very dark hair. 

Like with most strangers, Tobio was apprehensive at first, hanging cautiously to his dad and uncle’s hands. However, once meeting Asahi, despite that man’s impressive stature, his soft-spoken nature mimicked Tobio’s in a way, and he slowly warmed up. By the time Kuroo and Daichi were dressed for a night out and were heading out the front door, Tobio was sitting on the couch between the two babysitters, rambling on about polar bears while the opening theme of  _ Zootopia  _ played in the background.

It was a quick drive, in reality, but to Daichi, it felt like a cross country trek. His palms were sweaty and his face felt warm and his stomach was doing somersaults in his abdomen. Kuroo had helped him get dressed, picking out a fitted pair of dark-blue washed jeans that turned him into ‘Thigh-chi” (Kuroo’s words), pairing it with a black v-neck that accentuated his well-tone arms. (“Could someone call a vet? Because those pythons are SICK!” - again, Kuroo’s words.) He layered the look with a heathered zip-up hoodie, going for ‘casual sexy’, apparently. With all of this in mind, he was fairly confident he looked good, but he knew that Suga would definitely look better and it made his chest flutter.

Kuroo gave him a pep talk on the drive over while Daichi tried (and failed) to lay out the ground rules of interacting with Suga. It boiled down to one rule, really, which was, “don’t say or do anything to embarrass the shit out of me.”

This rule was immediately broken when they stepped out onto the rooftop bar and the first thing out of Kuroo’s mouth was, “holy shit, you look even hotter  _ out  _ of scrubs!”, referencing their apparent initial meeting when Kuroo had let Daichi sleep and sneaked to the school to grab Tobio. (Also, when Daichi asked how the hell Kuroo knew where to pick up his son, the black-haired man said ‘his school calendar is stuck to the fridge, moron.’) 

Suga, Hajime, and Tooru were seated on nice-looking patio furniture, gray and modern with pastel throw pillows all positioned around a fire pit. Since it was early September, the air was a bit warm, but a chill would inevitably set in once the sun went down. 

“Oh, why thank you,” Suga cooed, rising to his feet, nodding in Kuroo’s direction. He did look ridiculously good, outside of those scrubs, (Daichi pushed down the thought of the man in nothing at all) dressed tonight in black skinny jeans and a loose-fitting, long-sleeved t-shirt. The paper-thin olive fabric hung carefully off his left shoulder, gracing the world with a glimpse at alabaster skin, his collarbone pleasantly dotted with a few beauty marks similar to the one next to his gorgeous honey-colored eye.

In a gesture that surprised Daichi, Suga took a step toward him, using the hand not occupied with a mojito to cup the taller man’s face, swiping his thumb over the crest of his cheekbone. He leaned in and placed a brief, chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth; not quite on the lips, but most definitely not square on the cheek. Daichi caught a whiff of sharp mint and sweet rum, the scent as intoxicating as the man himself.

“Hi, Daichi,” Suga breathed, voice soft and sultry, a shy smile played out on his lips, pink and shining from his beverage.

“Hi,” was all the brunette could manage to say in response, all other words and fine motor functions completely lost in the fog that swelled his brain.

“Do you want to sit down?” the nurse asked, moving his hand from Daichi’s face to gesture toward one of the sofas. Tooru and Hajime were occupying the other sofa, and a chair was centered across from that. Kuroo had already taken that spot and the three were now intently staring at the scene unfolding before them. 

“Umm, sure,” Daichi replied, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck. Suga took a seat on the open sofa, Daichi occupying the space next to him. 

Tooru bent the straw of his grossly oversized margarita as he took a long, thoughtful sip, glasses lowered on his nose as he stared the newcomer down. Daichi swallowed thickly - he knew this group date was going to make him feel like he was under a microscope and he had to make a solid impression.

“You picked a good night to come,” Tooru stated, leaning into his husband. In Hajime’s hand was a duplication of what he had opened at the office - a rich, amber liquor, served neat in a short glass. “The band tonight is really good. It’s one of Suga-chan’s favorites - lots of cover songs.”

“Is it?” Daichi asked, turned toward the ashen-blonde. He nodded and smiled, sucking down a long sip of his drink. 

“Yes!” Suga exclaimed happily, nestling into his spot, tucking a pillow under his left arm. He and Daichi were sitting side-by-side, their knees almost touching. Just the thought of it made the brunette weak. 

“It’s a cool bar,” Hajime agreed with a shrug. 

Suga absentmindedly swirled the liquid in his glass as he turned to look at Kuroo. “So, Kuroo, what do you do?”

“I’m an organic chemist,” he answered with a big grin. 

“Oh? What does an organic chemist do?” the nurse asked, his interest clearly piqued. “I had to take an introductory O-chem course in college for my nursing degree and it was a horrific class.” He seemed to visibly shudder at the memory.

“Well actually, I work for a large pharmaceutical company. I help design drugs that probably many of your patients take,” he explained. 

But before the group could “ooh” and “ahh” in admiration, Daichi couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease his friend. “Yeah, he basically just puts compounds together in a petri dish and plays doctor kink with his lab coat.”

This earned giggles from both Suga and Tooru. “Ohh that sounds fun! We usually just play bad teacher slash naughty student, right Iwa-chan?”

Hajime's response came in the form of him shotgunning the rest of his liquor and completely ignoring what his husband had said. Tooru rolled his eyes but added, “I like it when I’m not the teacher, by the way.” 

Suga spit his mojito in equal parts laughter and disgust. 

Thankfully, their waitress came back around and took their order. She brought round two for Suga, Hajime, and Tooru, and assured Daichi and Kuroo she would be right back with their orders. Tooru also took the liberty of ordering shots for the group. 

They took up an easy conversation from there, discussing their jobs and venting about their days. Daichi and Hajime took turns retelling the account proposal from that morning, and how they were sweating bullets the whole time. Their drinks arrived, bringing a new topic of conversation, moving lightly from one to the next. The sun lowered in the sky, dipping behind the tall buildings, bringing with it a cool September night chill. 

Hajime lit the gas fireplace as he noticed his husband gravitating toward him, scooting closer and closer. The fire felt warm as it licked Daichi’s tanned skin, breathing in the musk of the heat. Suga scooted just a hair closer, the whole group now three drinks deep, plus that round of ‘celebration shots’ that Tooru had ordered. 

They all were feeling pretty good by the time the band picked back up, Suga humming and bopping along to one of the covers. Kuroo was now completely engrossed in telling a childhood story about Daichi - one from when he was a tubby, husky boy, if the repeated use of ‘Truffles’ was any indication. 

Daichi wanted to feel embarrassed about it, truly. But he couldn’t quite feel shame when Suga’s laugh was so giddy and his smile was so genuine. As the story wound down, the educator in their midst took on a very impish aura.

“Let’s play a game,” Tooru suggested slyly, causing his husband to groan. 

“Let’s not,” Hajime deadpanned.

“Let’s do it! I’m so down!” Kuroo interjected and Suga nodded. Daichi suddenly felt very, very afraid.

“What kind of game?” the nurse asked.

“Well, a drinking game,  _ obviously _ ,” as right at that moment, the waitress brought Daichi another pint of ice-cold beer and Kuroo his fourth white Russian. “It’s called ‘Never Have I Ever’.”

“Fuck yeah, I love this game!” the chemist exclaimed, taking a quick sip of his beverage. He hummed in satisfaction. “This shit’s good, damn.”

“How do you play?” Daichi felt stupid asking, as everyone else seemed to know the rules, given how either excited (Tooru, Kuroo, Suga) or mortified (Hajime) they looked.

“It’s so easy, Dai-chan. I say ‘never have I ever’, then say the thing I’ve never done. If you’ve done that thing, you have to take a sip. Then we just go around in a circle.”

Daichi nodded, gripping his glass a little tighter. He felt okay, just a bit nervous, especially if Tooru was leading the show. If it was like any of the few other drinking games he had ever played, he knew things would get sexual in nature real fast. While he wanted to learn more about the beautiful, angelic nurse to his immediate left, he was worried about looking like a prude at the same time. He was a gay man who married a woman right out of high school, let’s just say, his place on the experience totem pole was quite low.

“Okay, I’ll go first!” Tooru told the group.

“Of course you will,” Hajime grunted.

“Never have I ever,” he gave his spiky-haired husband the side-eye, “eaten my partner’s asshole over international waters while simultaneously violating the Geneva convention.”

“Fucking Christ,” Hajime sighed as he took a sip of his whiskey, a dramatic flush rushing across his whole face. Actually, it wasn’t just a sip, it was more like a desperate, infuriated gulp. Kuroo and Suga howled with laughter while Daichi did his best to not picture what had exactly taken place in that scenario.

Since they were going clockwise, it was immediately Hajime’s turn. “Never have I ever asked to call my partner ‘daddy’ during sex.”

Daichi’s concern only grew as Tooru, Suga,  _ and  _ Kuroo all took a drink.

_ What the actual fuck _ ? He shot Kuroo a look that must have portrayed exactly that thought, because the cat-like man only gave a sheepish shrug, though his facial expression looked anything but ashamed.

“Your turn, Tetsu-chan!” Tooru leaned across his husband to tap the tall man on his wrist, encouraging him to go.

Kuroo cleared his throat and said, “never have I ever been choked during sex.”

Daichi’s surprise came again as Hajime lifted his glass, a smug Tooru next to him, glass not raised to his lips. Suga sighed, blushing, taking another small sip.

_ Holy shit _ . Daichi needed a drink based on the fact that his mouth now felt like the Sahara, his mind completely on shut-down mode. The thickening veil of inebriation was making it exceptionally difficult to NOT imagine Suga in these various scenarios.  _ Daddy? Choking? _ Could he keep up?

“My turn!” Suga stated excitedly. “Never have I ever done naughty things over Zoom while on the clock.”

Hajime and Tooru gave each other long, regretful looks before Daichi’s boss took a drink.

“Woah, really?” Kuroo exclaimed with a very entertained chuckle. “You guys are fucking fun, I tell you what.” 

“It was a tough week--” Hajime tried to explain, only for Tooru to interrupt him.

“Yeah, so tough that he had to see my dick on webcam. It was during the summer so I was home, don’t worry, I’m not participating in lewd activities while on school property,” he assured the group like the devoted educator he was. “But I will say, it was fun.”

“Your turn,” Suga elbowed Daichi as Hajime kept grumbling in the background, thoroughly embarrassed. 

“Oh, umm,” Daichi murmured, looking down into his glass. He felt his face heat up, suddenly feeling quite anxious. It was painfully obvious that he was the only one in the group who hadn’t taken a drink. While some of them were incredibly specific and obviously a case for targeting (especially the married couple), he was having a rough time. “Never have I ever…” he let his voice trail off as the bubbles rose in his beer.

Then Suga, the angel he was, leaned over, breath hot along the shell of his ear, “do you want a hint?” Daichi nodded and Suga flashed a devilish smile before whispering something else.

Daichi’s eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched, “never have I ever asked Suga to dance to his favorite song?” 

Tooru was the only one who took a drink while understanding washed over Daichi’s fogged over brain. Slowly, he rose from his seat, setting down his beer and holding out his hand to the ashen haired nurse, who gracefully accepted his offer. Suga’s glass was half full but he abandoned it next to the other empties, not a care in the world.

“Suga, would you like to dance?”

“I would love to.” 

It felt totally surreal, leading the smaller man out onto the floor, his supple, warm hand in Daichi’s. The air was cooler now, the gentle breeze carding like nimble fingers through Suga’s light-colored locks. The atmosphere was beautiful, the live band echoing over the rooftop, the string lights hung around the terrace, twinkling like the stars above their heads; heaven brought down to earth, just like the man before him. 

As they approached the dance floor, the slow music swelled, and Suga pulled Daichi closer, his breath catching in his lungs. It was fascinating, watching him move. Daichi felt as if he were standing outside of himself as Suga pulled him closer, the nurse guiding Daichi’s big hands to his narrow hips. Long, pale arms crossed behind Daichi’s reddening neck, the sensation of skin on skin making him feel as though he was floating. 

_ And there goes my mind racing, _

_ And you are the reason. _

The lyrics seeped into the brunette’s every being, his brain fuzzy from the alcohol but also from the fact that Suga’s face was pressed up into his firm chest, eyes closed, a content sigh on his pink lips. The nurse swayed a little, humming to the melody, slowly moving his hands to brace himself on Daichi’s shoulders instead.

_ There goes my hand shaking. _

_ And you are the reason. _

“Suga?” Daichi asked as the nurse lifted his head, those warm honey orbs catching his brown ones. The smaller man only smiled, something soft and modest, but not reluctant or self-conscious. It was demure and unassuming, the way he looked, lips not parting, but pulling a little at the edges of his mouth, causing the flawless skin in the corner of his eyes to crinkle, that gorgeous beauty mark accented by the folds. 

The kiss came quietly, like a wave sneaking, rolling unnoticed just below the surface until it finally meets the shore, a roaring crash that batters the body but cleanses the soul. Suddenly, the tingling in his hands and feet had next to nothing to do with alcohol in his bloodstream and everything to do with the taste of Suga, rich and sweet, unrelenting but gentle, fervent but never desperate. And as his watermelon tongue rolled over Daichi’s, he felt the fingers around Suga’s hips tighten, emboldened by the calling in his heart, the beckoning of his body, the anything and everything that was Koushi Sugawara. 

Daichi couldn’t help but to think perhaps he was overreacting just a tad, maybe it had just been too long, or maybe he was too drunk, or maybe Suga was just too damn gorgeous for his own good, that’s why he was feeling this way. But when their lips finally parted as the song slowed to an end, and Daichi looked down at the kiss-swollen lips and half-lidded eyes before him, an expression of contented bliss on Suga’s soft features, it was then he knew he wasn’t alone in what he was feeling. Where Daichi’s heart was usually worn on his sleeve, tonight, on the intimate dancefloor, flooded with the sounds of ambient guitar music and the pleasant glow of fairy lights, he knew it was written on his face, too. It was written plain as day everywhere, for all the world, and most importantly, Suga, to see.

“Do you want to walk me home tonight?” Suga asked, hand still fisted in the front of that tight t-shirt.

Daichi could only offer a nod in confirmation, Suga taking his hand and holding him close as the next song started, two hearts refusing to abandon the sanctuary of the dancefloor.

///

Inviting Daichi back to his house wasn’t  _ really _ the plan, if anyone asked. He wasn’t intending for anything at all to happen tonight other than a few teasing kisses, maybe holding hands and dancing. Obviously, those intentions had fallen apart, unraveled like an old sweater. But being with Daichi was enchanting, almost bewitching. He couldn’t get enough.

Suga hadn't missed the way Tooru and Hajime looked during their dances as well. The two were totally in sync with one another, two whole human beings who came together to create something that was beyond understanding, a fullness that Suga had only used to dream of achieving.

But spending time with Daichi was different. Tobio’s dad made him feel like he was hanging the stars, like he was something special, exceptional, important; like he  _ mattered _ . Just at the way Daichi’s dark, umber eyes met his, Suga knew that this wasn’t just a crush or infatuation, not for either of them. While their one-on-one moments had been limited, and they hadn’t shared many dates, at least not near as many as Suga would have liked, their time in each other's presence was fully magnetic, one drawn to the other in a mutual polar pull. 

After paying their tabs, Kuroo assured Daichi he had sobered up quite a bit and would take an Uber back to the house to relieve the babysitters and make sure Tobio was good while Suga kissed Tooru on the cheek, bidding his best friend farewell. He gave Hajime a hug as well, assuring him he would see him next week. The married couple wanted to stick behind and keep dancing, ‘as soon as the band leaves, the club music starts, Suga-chan, and I’m gonna grind on my husband until he’s putty in my hand’. Suga didn’t bother to say, ‘but he already is’ because it was pointless: everyone and their pet dog knew that Hajime was a sucker for Tooru and vice versa.

“Are you cold?” Daichi asked as they made it back down to the street level in front of the bar. 

“A little,” Suga admitted as they waved goodbye to Kuroo, watching as he dipped into a compact car with a little white ‘U’ shaped sticker on the windshield. Suga was pretty sure he saw the raven-haired man mouth the words ‘wear a condom’ as he shut the door, but he wasn’t certain.

“Take this,” Daichi said as he unzipped his jacket, a blush coloring his cheeks, probably in reaction to what his best friend has insinuated.

“Thank you,” Suga hummed in appreciation as his date draped the gray garment over his shoulders. It smelled like the taller man, a woody, earthy scent, natural and masculine. It sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

“Which way?” Daichi asked with a boyish smile, enclosing his hand around Suga’s. 

The ashen-blonde smiled brightly, shifting his hand so their fingers interlaced, the gesture much more intimate, connecting them on another level. “My place is back this way,” Suga explained, tugging them away from the main part of the city.

“Do you have an apartment?” Daichi asked. 

“Mhmm,” Suga hummed as they walked, pace leisurely, as if they had nowhere special to be. “I rent one not too far from here. I like being close to the nightlife and the hustle and bustle.”

“You like going and moving then, huh?”

Suga didn’t miss the little lilt in his voice that almost sounded worried by that fact. It was probably a valid fear, in Daichi’s mind. Suga knew he probably saw himself as giant baggage weighing everyone around him down. He came with a kid and a widower status next to his name, though Daichi was unaware Suga knew that fact. It didn’t change how Suga felt,  _ wouldn’t _ , not even a little. “I used to,” he answered with a shy smile, eyes fixed to the cement under his canvas shoes. 

“Used to?”

“Mhmm, once upon a time. But I think that door is quickly closing behind me.” And it was, and not just because of Daichi. Suga buckled down at the school and put serious thought into his future when he saw Tooru getting a master’s and marrying the love of his life. He wasn’t jealous, not at all. He was simply motivated knowing that something else was out there, more than the shallow and superficial relationships and desires he had harbored before. Sure, he could still go out and have fun, but he didn’t want something that was fleeting, like his past relationships. He wanted real love, something tangible and capable of withstanding all that life handed out. 

They walked in comfortable silence for a few blocks, Suga’s hand cradled in Daichi’s bigger, stronger one, the sound of their crunching shoes and passing cars keeping them company as they strolled under orange street lamps, the amber glow reminding them of where they were headed. 

Finally, they arrived at a two-story brick building. It wasn’t a fancy place, especially not from the outside, but it had been Suga’s home for four years, ever since Hajime and Tooru decided they needed their space to grow as a couple. Suga had respected that, eager to see what he could accomplish as an independent man.

“This is me,” Suga said, standing in front of the little iron gate.

“Which apartment is yours?” Daichi asked, looking the building over. The apartment doors faced the outside, and there were six units in total - three upstairs and three downstairs. 

“Upper left,” Suga pointed using his free hand. And in a moment that turned his stomach with anxious butterflies, he asked, “do you want to come upstairs for a drink?”

He felt Daichi stiffen beneath his touch, his hand’s grip turning into a vice. It wasn’t a forceful action, just surprised, probably, a little taken aback. “I can walk you to your door,” Daichi offered, his face clearly conflicted. “But I think I should go after that.”

He wouldn’t lie - he was disappointed. However, he wouldn’t press or push. There was no point in that, as all good things in life were worth waiting for. And Daichi Sawamura was a  _ damn _ good thing, and also a gentleman. His heart was infallible, and Suga could never fault him for that.

“Thanks for coming out tonight… and walking me home,” Suga said as they climbed the exterior steps, voice still a little low from the alcohol. 

“It was my pleasure,” Daichi smiled, his expression affectionate. “What kind of suitor would I be if I didn’t perform such chivalrous gestures?”

“No suitor of mine, that’s for sure,” Suga concurred, giving the taller man a playful push. Daichi chuckled, and the sound of it warmed his chest.

“Now this is really me,” he explained, pointing to the door decorated with a floral, fall wreath. It might be a little preemptive, sure. But he would fight anyone that told him it was too soon to decorate for his favorite season.

“Your wreath is cute,” Daichi said, poking one of the fake maple leaves.

“You’re cute.” He didn’t have time to feel embarrassed by that line, because in the next moment, he pushed his lips up against Daichi’s yet again. This kiss was so much different from the last, and especially the one before that. This one  _ was _ desperate, and a bit hungry, powered by the pool of lust and longing Suga felt in his abdomen every time he smelled that earthy cologne or saw the sleeve of Daichi’s shirt straining around a firm bicep. Yes, this feeling was almost maddening, laden with genuine desire and dizzying want. 

Daichi’s tongue ran across his teeth, asking for permission, something Suga so eagerly granted. Throwing any hang-ups or inhibitions out the window, he opened his mouth wider, letting Daichi’s large hand splay across the slender expanse of his neck, fingertips teasing into the soft hairs right at his nape. Everything was electric; vibrant and buzzing, body completely alive.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” Suga asked as he pulled away, a bit breathless, eyelids hooded and gaze searching. “You seem a bit thirsty.”

Daichi laughed, his carmine cheeks pulling into a heartfelt grin. “Okay,” he conceded, never releasing his hold on Suga’s neck. “Maybe just one drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a long note but here it goes. 
> 
> Okay, so this fic has OVER 400 KUDOS?! What?! This is a story I thought of one day driving home from work and I was like, "that's cute, let's write it" and then it totally blew up and I was like ??? what, how?! You are all so, so amazing and you have seriously filled my heart. Your comments and kind words (especially in regards to my health) has made me feel less alone during this pandemic. My husband is actually a nurse and works a ton at this time, so this story and all of your sweet comments help keep my head up. THANK YOU!
> 
> Okay, so a few notes about this chapter-  
> 1.) Kuroo and Daichi platonic cuddle sometimes. I think we should normalize men being affectionate to each other, regardless of their sexual orientation. We're all just people who need other people, at the end of the day. And I will stand by that.  
> 2.) I know we didn't get a crap ton of Kuroo in this chapter specifically, but it's a 3-day weekend (inspired by Labor Day weekend) and he's gonna have more time next chapter, I promise. Daichi isn't just ditching his best friend on day one. Let's make that abundantly clear.  
> 3.) IDK if you listened to the song but I hope you did. Again, AJ--Honey helped me pick it (thanks again girl!!) and I thought it was totally Daichi.  
> 4.) I left you on a cliffhanger but please don't kill me. There's a reason there's a part II.  
> 5.) Also, not fic related, I quit my second job in retail and I am so freaking happy I could cry, which means I have more time to dedicate to the things I love, like writing and baking and being fucking happy. I still have my full-time job in education, which leaves me feeling fulfilled.
> 
> Okay, that's enough BS out of me. Thanks for listening to this ramble and as always, for reading this fic. I love you all SO stinking much, and I hope you liked this chapter. See you soon for Part II!!!
> 
> Next time: :)


	10. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so remember how I told you that next time was Shenanigans Part II? Well, it's not. Apparently, it's an interlude between shenanigans because I suck. I mean, I think I suck? Idk, I guess that depends on how you feel about this. Anyway, see you at the bottom, friends.

Daichi didn’t know what he exactly expected when he was welcomed into the small apartment, but it certainly wasn’t what he got. The exterior of the complex had proved that it was a bit dated, the bricks in desperate need of a power wash while the wooden railing of the stairs could use a fresh coat of paint. But stepping foot into Suga’s living space was exactly like him, a word Daichi could only describe as ‘refreshing’.

The floors were a dark hardwood, clearly artfully sanded and stained, original to the complex’s build. The walls were comprised of pristine white ship-lap (at least that was what Daichi was pretty sure it was called if he remembered from second-hand watching his mom’s HGTV marathons). As Suga flipped on the light switch, Daichi could see just how warm and cozy it truly was. Centered in the room was a dark brown loveseat and matching recliner adorned with chevron throw pillows with a large, ornate rug separating the seating furniture and a short, refurbished curio cabinet that served as a TV stand. Suga had delightfully paired it all up with an oak chest, using it as a coffee table, the remotes and magazines sitting on top were perfectly organized. Even the art on the walls was tasteful, assorted black and white photographs of nature scenes: a bridge stretching over a tranquil river, blades of grass wet with dew, a distant mountain top peaking over a line of trees. 

“Wow,” Daichi commented, taking a quick moment longer to admire his surroundings. “Your place is really nice, Suga.”

The nurse laughed, giving a little snort. “Says the man who lives in a two-story paradise in the suburbs.”

“I mean, my house is big, I guess, but it’s not…” he struggled for a moment, thinking of the word, “this,” he vaguely gestured with his hand, silently kicking himself for his shitty vocabulary.

“This?” Suga asked, quirking a gray eyebrow, giving a little smirk.

“I dunno… It’s just, well,  _ warm _ . Inviting.” Daichi sighed before finally meeting Suga’s eyes. “I have a scented candle.  _ One _ . And I’m not entirely sure if I’ve ever lit it. Or what it smells like.”

The ashen-blonde only laughed again, grabbing the taller man’s hand, ushering him further into the room. “What do two, brawny, manly Sawamura men need home decor for anyway, hmm?” he jabbed, leading Daichi to have a seat. Suga, however, remained standing.

“Oh, only one brawny man’s man in our house, I’m afraid. Tobio fits that description, not I.” Yeah, he was basically addicted to Suga’s musical laughter, relishing it as it lifted through the air at his joke. “And I’m not sure, maybe just so the house feels like a home, I guess?” 

“Okay, okay,” he waved his hand dismissively, armed with a warm smile. “I see your point.”

Rich brown eyes looked the nurse up and down, and then Daichi felt his face scrunch a little. “Are you going to sit down with me?”

“Oh, umm, in a moment.” Suga pawed at the back of his neck. “I’m gonna go get that drink for us. Red or white?”

“White if you have it, please,” Daichi replied. “Oh, do you mind if I use your restroom while you do that?”

Suga shook his head and pointed toward the back of the room where there was clearly a hallway. “Not at all! Umm, it’s a one-bedroom apartment and I’m afraid the bathroom is connected to my bedroom. Does that bother you?”

“Of course not, I promise I won’t snoop!” 

Suga, in an act designed to surely kill Daichi, gave an extremely sultry wink. “I have nothing to hide.”

The brunette shot off the couch, the quick movement immediately regrettable because he was still a little drunk and the swift motion forced static to rush and cloud his vision, his brain stuttering, struggling to come up with a response.

Suga giggled. “Just go down the hall, the bedroom is the door on the right. The other is just a closet, so it should be pretty easy to narrow down.”

“Right then, on it. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, big boy!” Suga quipped over his shoulder as Daichi followed his instructions. Or tried, rather, as he opened the door to a linen closet. Sighing, Daichi instead turned to the only other door, which opened up into a bedroom.

Cautiously, he flipped the switch on the wall (after groping for it for just a moment), allowing light to fill the small space. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see that it was immaculately decorated as well. Housed inside was a queen-size sleigh bed covered in a sky blue duvet and color-coordinated accent pillows, the dresser and old-school cheval mirror were clearly a matching set to the divan, stained the same chocolate brown. Other than a few books sitting atop the bedside table, right beside the very charming, tiffany glass lamp, nothing in the room was out of place. In fact, everything about it screamed Suga, reflecting him: an old soul with charisma and charm, as well as a keen eye to finding the best in all things.

Deciding he had already lingered too long, Daichi quickly found the restroom. After taking care of business and washing his hands with the world’s most terrific smelling hand soap (Daichi pushed down the idea of opening up his shower and seeing what his body wash smelled like), he decided he should dry his hands on the exceptionally fluffy handtowel and rejoin his date (no question mark this time) out in the living room.

Soft, low music reached his ears as he stepped back into the hallway. He could hear the very distinct sound of the nurse, humming away. Daichi stilled so he could listen just a moment longer as the humming turned into singing. It wasn’t overly loud, just a decibel or two above the small stereo, but it was distinct. The sweet tenor voice carried across the living room, a charming rendition of whatever airy guitar music he was playing, something reminiscent of the songs they had danced to at the bar. But hearing Suga sing now was soul-altering, almost comforting, in a way. Daichi was convinced that only angels could sound like that.

“Oh! You’re back!” Suga walked out from the threshold to the kitchen, two stemless wine glasses in hand. His face flushed a little upon seeing Daichi, almost as if he were embarrassed. “Sorry if my singing disturbed you.”

The young dad shook his head and took a step forward, gratefully accepting one of the glasses. “Nonsense, it was beautiful. You didn’t tell me that you could sing.”

“Ah, that’s not a very interesting story, I’m afraid,” Suga stated, leading them back toward the sofa. They sat on the loveseat, which put them very close to one another, shoulders and thighs touching. Daichi tried very hard not to think about it as he kept his attention focused on Suga’s face. But that was also equally as distracting since it was hand-sculpted by God himself. 

“Your singing?” Daichi asked, remembering he should be talking and not just staring like a fucking weirdo.

“Yeah, I was in choir and theater in high school, then just kind of kept doing it in college. Just for fun, obviously, since I was a nursing major. I would have minored in theater if I had the time,” Suga explained as he tucked a stray gray lock behind his ear. He fidgeted a moment before taking a drink of his wine. 

“That’s really cool, Suga. I think your voice is beautiful.” He took a long sip of his drink. If they were going to continue to sit in this proximity, he needed all the liquid courage he could get.

“You could hardly hear me,” Suga remarked coyly, though the faint dusting of pink returned to his cheeks.

“Well, then that’s an even further testament to how great your voice is! If you were hardly trying, and your singing was still  _ that  _ gorgeous, then it must be truly something to marvel at.” 

Suga laughed; it was that musical, angelic, amazing little laugh, that sound that proved him the ethereal being he was; it made all the more sense after hearing his singing. Perhaps every sound that left this man was perfect, and Daichi did his best to quell that thought before it could escalate and send blood places it should not be sent. 

Suga leaned over and rested his head on Daichi’s broad shoulder, a contented sigh on his lips. “You’re a flatterer.”

“Nonsense,” Daichi countered. Reaching up with his free hand, he carefully, gingerly, touched Suga’s hair, the pads of his fingers tracing over the soft edges. “Nonsense,” he repeated; this time, it came out barely a whisper. 

“You’re warm, Dia,” Suga commented, nuzzling closer. The taller man resituated, raising his arm so the blonde could dip underneath, now laying his head on a rock-solid chest, the very same chest that was overheating from hearing the object of his affection call him by a nickname.

“It got a bit cold tonight,” was all the young dad could think to add, kicking himself mentally for yet again showcasing his resounding conversational skills. But Suga was still wearing his zip-up jacket, though, and since it was a bit oversized, the garment was falling off his slender shoulder, once more gracing the world with a glimpse of his sharp collarbone. And with Suga laying like that, with one hand curled at his own chest and the other gripping the wine glass that was resting on the very broad expanse of Daichi’s left thigh -- how the hell could he  _ not  _ be flustered at that moment? If he were being totally honest, it wasn’t just the position they were sitting in. It was simply Koushi Sugawara in general that made him like this, turning him into the one-man conductor of the Hot-Mess Express.

Daichi was staring, and he knew he was must have been looking too long, because Suga turned his head, peeking up at him from under those gossamer, pewter lashes, copper eyes twinkling in the lamplight. And when he spoke, Suga’s voice came out soft and suggestive, “you know, you can kiss me again.”

Daichi felt himself grow a bit rigid, but then he quickly relaxed.  _ This is okay _ , he reminded himself,  _ this is more than okay. _ So without a verbal reply, he leaned forward, setting his glass on the coffee table, and moving to take Suga’s as well, placing it beside his. 

He turned toward the smaller man, taking hold of one of his slender hands, before moving the other up to cup the blonde’s porcelain cheek. He smoothed a thumb over that signature beauty mark, that small but captivating feature. It may have been a blemish to others but to Daichi, it was a testament to Suga’s perfection. Leaning in, he did what he had been longing to do since he first laid eyes on the fair-haired beauty standing in his office - he kissed that tiny brown mole, pressing his lips gently to it. Suga closed his eyes and hummed on the contact.

“You’re smooth, Daichi,” Suga teased, though his voice came out thick and a bit syrupy, as if he were entranced.

Daichi didn’t comment in return, only let his lips wander, down the gentle ridge of his cheekbone, to the tender skin just below his ear, until he traced down, down, down, capturing his pointed chin, then his pale neck, and finally, landing on the defined divot of his exposed collarbone, still so deliciously pale, covered in supple skin. The gesture elicited a low moan from Suga, just a small noise but it stirred inside Daichi, heating his stomach and fueling his ministrations. Everything about this man was lovely and so worthy of worship, every inch so velveteen and warm. 

When Daichi finally pulled away, it was only to give in and capture Suga’s lips in a kiss instead. One of their hands stayed threaded together, while one of Suga’s reached up and carded through dark locks; agile, nimble fingers ghosting the faintest scratch of nails over his scalp. He hummed in satisfaction, the sound catching in their conjoined mouths, tongues tracing over, exploring, finding one another. 

And as Suga licked inside his mouth, Daichi could taste the longing and the desire, traced with bubbly sweetness, the confectionery remains of the wine he had sipped so gingerly moments ago. He was a dream, composed of ripe peaches and overwhelming sincerity, and it lit Daichi’s insides on fire.

In an instant, Suga shifted, crawling onto Daichi’s lap, slotting his knees on either side of the man’s hips, never once breaking their kiss. It spiraled then into something compelling and almost heart-stopping; they were breathing the same air, mixing their stifled moans and hums. While Suga’s hands splayed across his broad expanse of chest, Daichi’s thumbs dipped into the narrow clefts of the smaller man’s hip bones, the bulk of his large hands palming right where the backs of his toned thighs met the curve of his pert little ass. 

_ Tell him the truth. _

In a moment that seemed to surprise them both, Daichi pulled away, their lips separating with a loud and overly lewd ‘pop’. Suga opened his eyes and those rich irises were clouded with yearning, but slowly became rimmed with concern. 

“Did I--?” Suga started, voice coated and raspy. He swallowed heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Did I do something wrong?”

He could understand why Suga would think that because Daichi’s hands had stilled, no longer roaming, and he could feel the panic edged in his own expression as his heart rate spiked. “No, fuck, of course not,” he breathed, but he knew how absolutely unconvincing he sounded, especially with the sheen of tears building in his eyes and how guarded his body language had become.

Suga drew back further, resting his hands on Daichi’s thick biceps. “I think… I feel like I did,” he said slowly as if trying to keep any emotion out of his voice, face contorted into a grimace.

“Suga, I’m so sorry,” Daichi began, but stopped, his apology dissolving on his tongue as he scrambled to think of the right words to say. “I… I just have to tell you something.” He felt so sick to his stomach, as if he were moments from puking, his thoughts swam and his limbs ached and all he wanted to do was scream. 

The blonde didn’t look away, but he didn’t speak, either. He sat still, so very still, like a statue, frozen and immortalized in beautiful porcelain. 

“I’m just… scared.” The confession rolled off Daichi's swollen tongue, manifesting in the air before his brain even had time to process what was happening. 

He’d never said those words aloud to anyone, ever. He didn’t say them to his mother when Yui moved back to Sato’s house, even though she was clearly miserable and he knew that piece of shit was going to pull something. He didn’t say them to his wife when she was dying right in front of him, even though he was terrified of losing her, as she was his best friend and loving partner, and he was absolutely unsure of how to raise their baby without her. And he certainly didn’t say them to Kuroo as he packed up his life into a U-Haul and made the decision to start over half a continent away from everything he ever knew and loved simply because he didn’t know what else to do.

But he was saying them now, for some reason that he didn’t fully understand. He was saying them to Suga, who up until a month ago, and still in many respects, was a stranger. Because he  _ was  _ scared, utterly petrified of fucking up the first good thing, outside of Tobio, to happen to him in six years. Everything had led him here, to this couch in this apartment in this city with Koushi Sugawara, school nurse, and all-around beautiful human. And he didn’t want to lose someone, something so magical and wonderful, ever again, especially not before whatever was happening could even really begin.

“Of what?” Suga asked finally, lifting his honey eyes. His expression broke Daichi’s heart, and he felt his resolve crumbling. The blonde was still seated on his lap, and he could feel Suga trembling ever so slightly, shaking in place where he rested on Daichi’s thighs.

“A lot of things,” he replied cryptically, even though he knew that was the wrong thing to say, as it was far too vague and almost insincere. It was hardly an answer, and it was certainly far less than what Suga deserved. “I have something important to confess to you.”

“I have something to confess to you first,” the blonde admitted, resituating himself on the couch. He slid off of Daichi’s legs, sitting so his back was pressed up against the arm of the love seat, his hands folded in his lap, fingers anxiously and absentmindedly picking at the skin around his nails. Daichi would have thought it was a cute habit, had they been anywhere else, and under any other circumstance.

_ I’m not into you. _

_ Dating someone with a kid is too much. _

_ I don’t want to date someone who’s been with a woman before. _

_ You’re too much work already. _

“Okay,” Daichi said carefully, doing his best to ignore the intrusive thoughts that clogged his brain, despite the anxiety that ripped at his chest. He sat to mirror Suga, his back to the opposite armrest, their calves lightly touching where they intersected on the cushion. It relieved Daichi that Suga didn’t pull away completely. Not yet, at least.

It was Suga’s turn to sigh, running a distressed hand through his ashy locks. “I know…” he paused as if his mouth were struggling to form the proper words, “or, I should say, rather, I  _ think _ I know a little bit about what you want to tell me.” Silence permeated the air between them, it’s presence almost suffocating. Suga kept his attention rapt to his hands, the fidgeting still present. He drew a bated breath, then spoke again. “Tobio told me that his mother passed away.” He made eye contact at that statement, and Daichi felt his heart skip.

“She did,” were the only words he could manage in his shock. How long had Suga known? Was that not a deal-breaker for him? He was a widower, for Christ’s sake! Complete with all sorts of emotional baggage and guilt. But if Suga knew at least that much, then why on earth was he still giving him the time of day? Maybe, Daichi thought, he was never really worthy of this man’s attention or time in the first place.

“I don’t want to pry, as it’s not my place to ask too many questions. But the only thing I want to know is…” Suga trailed off, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. It was clear he was nervous, if the uncertainty he wore in his honey eyes was any indication. “Can you tell me how long?”

Daichi exhaled heavily - it wasn’t quite a sigh, more like the manifestation of his suffocating anxiety and uncertainty regarding the situation. “My wife, Tobio’s mom…” he started, voice quiet.

_ “Don’t worry about anyone other than you and Tobio. I just want you to be happy.”  _

_ “You both deserve to be loved.” _

Suga only looked at him, the most gentle of expressions on his face. The blonde reached out to take Daichi’s hand, letting his thumb run soothingly over his knuckles in an attempt to calm his anxiety. Daichi hadn’t even realized he was trembling until their skin connected. Was he this terrified to tell the truth aloud? To talk about Yui to someone else?

“She died when Tobio was about eight months old.” Umber eyes latched onto where Suga’s hand met his, the blonde’s grip increasing, turning vice-like. But Daichi didn’t squeeze back - he couldn’t summon the strength to push past his nerves to do that. His vision slowly turned watery, a liquid kaleidoscope clouding his view, a thousand images and memories flashing before him, every single one a mixture of his love and guilt and confusion.

“That must have been so difficult for you, Daichi. I am so sorry.” Pale, nimble fingers only held tighter, weaving their way in between Daichi’s thicker, tan ones. “I can’t believe you’ve been raising your son alone all this time.”

Using his free hand, Daichi swiped his palm across his wet cheek, capturing the moisture he only had vaguely realized was gathering there. “Not alone, but thank you.” He choked on a sob as he added, “my mother and Kuroo made sure I was never alone.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything else right now,” the blonde assured him, giving his hand another affirming squeeze. “Or ever, Daichi, it’s not my place, I just--”

“You have fears, too.” The nurse blushed faintly before nodding, breaking their eye contact. “I don’t know where things are going with us, Suga, but I couldn’t move forward without telling you that much.”

“I appreciate that,” he replied, expelling a ragged, tired breath. 

“I don’t know if this is the right time to ask, but can we keep trying…” Daichi raised his hand that was still clasped with Suga’s, using it to gesture between them, “this?” He then cringed, scrambling for the next sentences, “I mean, I understand if you don’t or if you want to tread lightly. I have never had a relationship with a man and I…”

“Daichi, relax,” Suga instructed him, leaning forward and giving him a warm, yet small smile, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a look that wasn’t filled with pity, but instead imbued empathy and understanding. His honey eyes were tinged with copper, smoldering pools of bronze affection, the dark, fine edges were just a bit glassy with emotion, but it made Suga look all the warmer, this angel of a human with the innate desire to give and hold and care. “I would really like to keep doing,” he imitated Daichi then, wagging their enclosed hands, “this.”

Daichi let out a sound that was sigh wrapped in a laugh, the air leaving his lungs so fast he almost choked. “Okay, thank god,” he whispered, batting his dark lashes to keep the moisture in. There would be no more tears tonight, not on his watch. 

“And it’s okay if you call me Koushi from time to time,” the nurse mentioned coyly, the rosy color still noticeable on his cheeks. 

“Can I kiss you again, Koushi?”

He nodded vigorously, crawling forward once more, positioning himself this time between those toned thighs, delicate hands curled around Daichi’s biceps. And when their lips met, warm and melting, the kiss was heavy with feeling, laden with unwavering sincerity, as if holding onto something deep and pronounced but hard to define. They kissed without urgency, the smaller man pushed up against his solid chest, movements slow and unhurried, patient and exploring, hands and tongues taking their time to chart every touch, every emotion, every breath. It had been so long since Daichi kissed someone, let alone like this. His head swam, no longer drunk from the alcohol from the bar. No, at this moment, he was purely intoxicated from the elation that came from kissing  _ Koushi _ . 

When they finally parted, Suga looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, looking so sleepy and sated. “Don’t leave tonight.” It wasn’t a question, but instead, a heartfelt request.

His heart was already hammering in his chest, but he felt his blood surge as Suga whispered a soft ‘please’, laying back down into Daichi’s chest, nuzzling his neck sleepily. 

“You want me to stay here with you?”

“Mmm,” Suga hummed, wrapping his arms tighter around the brunette’s toned midsection. “It’s a long walk back to your car.” His speech was turning a little slurred, further evidence that the man was exhausted and drifting in and out of consciousness. His gray-haired head was resting on Daichi’s clavicle, his soft breath warming his skin. Daichi took a deep breath in, catching the bergamot scent of his shampoo, underlined with Daichi’s own cologne still clinging to the zip-up sweatshirt. It was an enchanting musk, and as Daichi drifted off into his own sleep, he couldn’t help but think the idea of falling asleep with Koushi every night wasn’t the worst one he ever had.

\---------

Taking a deep sigh, Kuroo collapsed next to the little table at the end of the downstairs hall. He had paid the two babysitters, who raved about Tobio, doting on how mild-mannered and sweet he was. “ _ Of course he is, _ ” Kuroo explained,  _ “he’s my nephew, isn’t he? _ ” It was a little after 11 when he arrived via Uber back at the house, and he was a little disappointed to learn that Tobio was already passed out in his room by the time he got there, but it was expected. Daichi kept a pretty strict schedule, and Tobio seemed to thrive under that.

“Your husband hasn’t changed, Yui,” Kuroo whispered, tilting his eyes to look at the photograph sitting on the end table. A heavy, gold-embellished frame housed one of Kuroo’s favorite pictures of a young, healthy Yui, the woman smiling on her wedding day, chestnut eyes shimmering under the early spring light of the seaside park. Her hair was clipped back in a veil, flattering her feminine and petite features. In her hands she held a bouquet of native wild-flowers; stark white popcorn blooms and soft yellow bush poppy accented with California buckwheat. It was delicate, understated, and gorgeous, just like her. 

He smirked and leaned back, resting his head against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. He didn’t have a lot of alcohol left in his system, but he still felt overly sentimental, a bit sensitive as he thought back on the last six years. “He’s out on a date and he hasn’t the faintest idea what he’s doing,” Kuroo told her, propping his chin on his elbow. “He’s such a lost cause, I had to fly out here and fix it.” He scoffed, “but I kinda expected that. How could you fall for such a dork, huh?” 

Wide, golden eyes drifted from her photograph to her urn, an ornate vase, her name painted on the outside in both kanji and English letters. The trio may have grown up in pretty westernized households, but they still kept several Japenese traditions, especially when it came to remembering and honoring those who had passed. 

“I worry he’s not happy, Yui. You know our Dai, all the love in the world to give, and he becomes stagnant as a person if he doesn’t have someone to give it to. I mean, that’s why Tobio is the best gift you could have left him. I don’t think he would have made it very far without the little guy.” 

Kuroo fiddled with his hands, deciding it was best to close his eyes for a moment while he collected the rest of his thoughts. While Kuroo’s love for Yui was platonic, it still ran bone-deep, the woman always viewed as a little sister in his cat-like eyes. She would always be that tiny, freckle-faced girl in the Mickey Mouse t-shirt, handing out peppermints in exchange for attention and affection, unknowingly winding up with a lifelong friendship. 

“Tobes is the best gift you left both of us,” he sobbed, voice growing hoarse as his throat tightened, “a little piece of you. And I know why Daichi moved, I know. I supported him and encouraged him to get out of his comfort zone and start over but fuck,” he hissed, trying to get a grip on his emotions. “I just wish they were closer. I miss ‘em a lot.”

The dark-haired man chuckled at himself, pushing down the uncomfortable swelling in his chest, “I miss all of us, all the time. I swear to god, the eight months you were here with Tobio and us were the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, despite ther hospital stays and how sick you were.” A large hand came to his face, the back of it pawing away at fresh tears. 

“I’m trying to date, too, ya know. But they don’t pan out. And I know what you’re thinking, I remember your teasing loud and clear: ‘Tetsu, stop being such a heartbreaker!’. But it’s not me this time, Yu, I swear. I just,” he sighed again, curling his long fingers through the wild mane of pitch-black hair, “... I just can’t be happy until I know Daichi is. And you’re gonna say that’s an excuse, but it’s not.” 

He held up a hand as if he were silencing someone and gave the empty hallway a stern look. “Don’t bother lecturing me, I’m standing my ground. He’s sacrificed so much for all of us, it’s the least I can do to make sure I do what you asked.” 

He remembered his promise to Yui vividly; thinking back on it never took much effort. It was a rare moment alone in the hospital, Daichi had left to get some rest and be with Tobio, and Kuroo had taken advantage of the one-on-one time with his female best friend. It was mid-summer, the tourist season in San Francisco in full-swing. Yui’s heart hospital sat along the shoreline, giving her room a beautiful view of the harbor. She liked it when Kuroo would open the window and let the salt air waft in. Yui was cold a lot, given her condition and her weak heart’s inability to properly pump hot blood to her extremities. 

“Thank you, Testu,” she cooed, rolling on her side so she could catch sight of the seagulls dotting the clear blue, crystalline sky. “Daichi gets worried if I leave it open too long.”

“I know he does,” Kuroo had stated, leaning back in the heavy, faux leather lounge chair. Her days were numbered by then, each rising sun wound the clock down, but Kuroo never talked about that with her, not unless she wanted to. He took that responsibility on himself in an attempt to spare Daichi the burden.

“Will you take care of him, Testu?”

The dark-haired man made a face at that, the gesture caught somewhere between a reassuring grin and heartbroken grimace. “I’ll keep an eye out, I suppose.” He winked a golden yellow eye. On the surface, it was meant to be playful, but in reality, it was to stave off a stray tear. There was no crying in front of Yui or Tobio - that was the rule. He and Daichi could cry in front of one another whenever - that was the other rule. “I’ll look out for Tobes, too.”

“I appreciate that, but Daichi will need it more. You know him - he never cries or panics. He just stays strong and pours himself empty.”

Kuroo nodded, leaning forward to capture one of Yui’s ice-cold hands in his. The contact made her smile, causing her oxygen tube to twitch where it was taped against her cheek. “I know that Daichi made an exception for me and I’ve been selfish to let him.”

His nose scrunched at that comment, doing his best to piece together her puzzling words. “I don’t understand,” was all he could tell her finally, his mind trying to keep up with her thought process. "I think you’ve had a little too much pain medicine,” he joked.

But Yui shook her head defiantly and curled her fingers around the back of Kuroo’s massive hand. “I want him to be happy with someone... “ her voice was a little shaky, feeble from her worsening condition. “Someone who makes him feel like himself. He can’t be alone, Testu, so don’t let him be with just anyone. Don’t let him settle again. Dai wasn’t born to fit a mold and you know that.”

Lost on what to say next, but filled to the brim with an unwavering understanding, Kuroo squeezed back. He waited until Yui was fully asleep before he sobbed into his free hand, the quiet cries unheard over the sounds of the waves lapping the shore.

“Fuck me,” Kuroo whispered, pressing his hands into his eyes - crying again, alone and in the dark hallway. “Well, that’s it for me darlin’. I’ll come to kiss you goodbye before I go.” 

He rose to his feet, not realizing his leg had fallen asleep while he was lost in his reverie. He wiped his hands on his jeans before climbing up the steps to Daichi’s room. He found his suitcase and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stared at the giant bed before glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost one in the morning, and he was banking that his best friend wasn’t returning, at least not tonight. 

“Nope, not sleeping alone” he said firmly, turning on his heel to go back to the hallway. He opened Tobio’s bedroom door for the second time that night, the first time was immediately after he had relieved the babysitters. He stared down at the little brunette boy, snoozing gently, arms circled around a plush polar bear. 

Kuroo leaned down and gently scooped up his nephew, careful not to jostle him. He pulled him tight to his chest as he walked back toward the master bedroom. 

“Uncle ‘Roo?” the boy’s sleepy voice asked as Kuroo lowered him to the large mattress. 

“Hey buddy,” Kuroo grinned, climbing in next to his nephew. “Go back to sleep.”

“Where is daddy?” he rubbed a tiny fist against a half-lidded eye, clearly barely awake.

The tall man laughed, “he’s having a sleepover.”

“With Nurse Suga?” Tobio asked, cobalt gaze catching his uncle’s.

“Mhmm. Now go back to sleep. We’ll go get pancakes in the morning.”

“I like pancakes,” Tobio said softly, snuggling into Kuroo’s arm.

“Me too, buddy.”

“I want to have a sleepover at Nurse Suga’s.”

Kuroo made sure the boy was safely back asleep before he mused, “if your dad is smart and plays his cards right, Nurse Suga will have lots of sleepovers here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is gonna be kinda long-winded again, so feel free to skip my rambling if it's not your thing. I totally understand if it's not, it doesn't hurt my feelings, I just appreciate you reading this fic in general.
> 
> Okay, a few things:
> 
> 1.) I'm SO sorry, I know this isn't Shenanigans Part II as promised, but that's next time. As I got to writing this chapter (and please note I spent a LOT of time on it, even if it doesn't seem that way), I thought hearing a few things from Kuroo would be really nice, since we haven't had a break from DaiSuga in a hot minute. Anyway, I hope that was okay. I chose to make this chapter smaller (only 6k lol) and use it as a serious interlude (hence the title lol) between the two. I'm so sorry if you hate the vibe of this chapter. I promise more laughs will come!!
> 
> 2.) This is a personal note, so feel free to skip it. But my mom died about 7 years ago, and I talk to her urn all the time, and it makes it feel like she's here. Kuroo is a sentimental sap who misses his best friends and nephew. I imagine him doing this much like I do. 
> 
> 3.) I have a few thoughts about doing a spin-off IwaOi this one is all said and done, we'll see how it pans out. BUT I thought of doing a side one-shot IwaOi that covers their post-babygate argument and their makeup sex. It would be a little sappy and a little smutty, and I would write it as a separate piece to this. I would do that because I know smut isn't everyone's thing (fair warning, this will have some eventually but IwaOi will, shall we say, 'hit different' lmao.) But don't worry, even if it's not your thing, any plot points worked out in the side one-shot will be recounted in the main story. Idk, maybe I'm just confusing y'all now. Let me know what you think, tho!! Maybe I just want an excuse to write smutty, established IwaOi.
> 
> 4.) Last, but certainly not least, I am still just BLOWN AWAY!! All of your kind and sweet comments, especially in congratulations to celebrate me leaving retail, have been soooo dang heartwarming. This Sunday is my last shift and I can't wait! And last chapter I said I got to 400 kudos and now I'm almost at 500?!? Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart!! I love you guys and I couldn't write this story about your love and support. It is so humbling and encouraging, I can't even begin to explain.
> 
> PS - this fic is probably going to be really fucking long if you haven't gathered that yet because I apparently can't pace worth shit, so I'm so sorry if you're not ready to be in the for the long haul, I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, I just hope you like it anyway.
> 
> Next time: Tattoos, pancakes, and face time? Oh my! (or, shenanigans Part II - for real this time)


	11. Shenanigans: Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans Part II, my friends! Enjoy!

A faint buzzing noise pulled him awake, Suga letting out a soft groan. He was very warm, and his neck hurt a little from how he was sleeping. Wait, how _was_ he sleeping? He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he could tell that he wasn’t on his bed, and the fabric of a t-shirt was soft beneath his touch, the body heat radiating through it was mildly addicting. He snuggled closer, his cheek brushing against an angular clavicle and WAIT-

Suga’s eyes shot open instantly, and he picked his head up quickly, which was a mistake because it suddenly felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds and he had to blink back sleep and eye crusties to realize he was laying on top of a one very solid, exceptionally sexy, and very much asleep, Daichi. Thankfully, his surprised motion hadn’t woken the brunette up. He was sleeping on his back, head resting on one of the throw pillows, one arm thrown around Koushi’s midsection, the other resting on his stomach.

And Suga’s brain short-circuited at the realization that Daichi’s tight black shirt had ridden up his abdomen, exposing the bottom half of an exceptionally toned stomach and a well-defined ‘V’ that disappeared beneath the waistband of his dark-wash jeans. 

_Keep it together, you fucking pervert,_ Suga scolded himself, but didn’t look away. In fact, he just kept staring, propped up against one hand, their bodies still connected where his pelvis was flush to the very meaty bulk of Daichi’s mouthwatering thighs. 

_Think totally not gay thoughts,_ he demanded of himself as he squeezed his eyes shut. This was absolutely, definitely _not_ the time to have a physical reaction to what he was seeing because everything in their conversation the night before had blatantly indicated that Daichi was indeed new at this, that this was his first gay relationship, and this was probably even his first relationship since his wife died. 

The blonde swallowed thickly and willed his eyes back open. Warm September light poured into the apartment from the sliding glass doors that led to his balcony, the sandy-brown curtains doing little to filter and keep it out. And yes, Daichi looked _beautiful_ bathed in it. It wasn’t just his sculpted body and his athletic prowess. This man was something else, with that perfectly square cut jawline and that sleepy little pout. 

The vibrating began again, and Suga blinked, glancing around, trying to source the sound. Was it his phone? He patted his side, where he was still wearing Daichi’s jacket. His phone was there, but it wasn’t ringing. Was it Daichi’s? It had to be. 

“Dai,” Suga said softly, carefully squeezing the taller man’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him, totally, definitely not taking the opportunity to assess his traps. The dark brunette stirred a little, but otherwise, kept gently snoozing. And Suga couldn’t help but thinking it was completely fucking adorable. “Daichi,” he repeated a little louder as the vibration came to life once more.

“Hmm?” the young dad hummed, barely cracking one dark brown eye open. He was clearly a heavy sleeper, movement slow as he gave a small yawn. 

“Daichi, I think your phone is ringing,” Suga whispered, a coy tone to his words. He liked seeing the other man like this; vulnerable, yet content. 

“Huh?” he asked, his deep voice laden with confusion. It was then that he opened both of his eyes, twin pools of dark chocolate, sweet and rich; a true delicacy to indulge in so early in the morning. It would seem a light came on as Daichi sat up a little, a realization sweeping his features. “Suga- hi,” he rasped.

“Good morning,” Suga responded, moving to sit up a little more. He untangled their legs and rested his back against the bulk of the loveseat. 

“G’morning.” He balled one of his fists and pressed into the corner of his eyes, gathering the sleep that had built there. “What time is it?”

Suga glanced at the clock that hung above the television. “It’s about 8:30,” he reported. “But I think someone is trying to get a hold of you.”

Daichi blinked heavily, only then seeming to notice his phone was vibrating like mad on the hardwood floor. The phone must have fallen out of his pocket or off the couch in their sleep. The young dad leaned down and swiped the screen, bringing it to his ear. He gave a very sleepy, “hello?”

The apartment was quiet so Suga didn’t miss the energetic “Daddy!” that responded.

“Well hey buddy, good morning,” Daichi greeted, a smile lighting his face. Suga wished he had a camera at that moment, a way to immortalize the sheer joy that consumed the man upon hearing his son’s voice. It was as if countless thousand-megawatt light bulbs had been placed inside the sun and then stuck in a tanning booth. That smile, that expression that was so affectionate yet strong and capable - well, it was infectious, a gift. Suga hadn’t really thought much about being a parent before, but if it was anything like Daichi made it out to be, it seemed miraculous. 

Suga couldn’t hear much after that, Tobio seemed to have lowered his voice. “Yeah, sure sweetheart. We can go get pancakes. Have Uncle ‘Roo take you to IHOP and I’ll meet you there -- uh, yeah, I had a sleepover with Nurse Suga. Did we play Mario Kart? No, I don’t think he has Mario Kart. You want me to ask him--” a small pause came from Daichi’s end as he sheepishly looked in Suga’s direction. The blonde blinked heavily and narrowed his eyes curiously as Daichi caught his gaze. “I’m not sure, buddy. I can ask him if he wants pancakes, too. But remember what I say - if an adult says they’re busy--” Daichi stopped talking, Suga only guessed that Tobio was filling in the blanks of that lecture. “Mhmm, tell Uncle ‘Roo. Is he right there?”

Daichi’s expression changed again. It was still fond and affectionate, but he clearly bristled with anticipation as the other end of the line changed speakers. “Hey, Tetsu,” he greeted. “Yeah, I’m good. Did you get the babysitters paid? -- Thank you, I owe you. Yes, I do! -- Fine, then I’m paying for breakfast. -- I haven’t asked him yet.” He lowered his voice to an annoyed hiss, “I haven’t asked him yet because he’s right here and I don’t want to put him on the spot while we’re on the phone -- ugh, _okay_ ,” he snapped the word like a willful preteen might, and it gave Suga the giggles. “IHOP off of Oak St. I’ll be there at 10. Alright -- Testsu, no, not -- because it might get taken out of context. --- FINE! Ugh, I love you too.” And with that, he rolled his eyes and smashed the red end button as if his life depended on it.

Daichi took a quick breath in but slowly exhaled through his nose, a clear attempt to gather his thoughts. It took a brief moment, but he finally turned back to face Suga. “Hi,” he offered weakly, but it was so endearing.

“Hi,” the blonde said. He couldn’t resist it any longer, leaning in and giving those gorgeous full lips a little peck. “How are you?”

“Better now,” he huffed, reaching out to touch Suga’s hair. He wanted to cringe knowing full well how unkempt his bed head probably was, but with the soft, almost loving expression the young dad was giving him, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Were things so bad before?”

Sleep must have made Daichi an honest man, unbridling him from his anxiety and fears, allowing him to unearth thoughts he usually kept buried. At least, that was the only thing Suga could surmise as the brunette veered forward, kissing his beauty mark once more as he whispered, “everything else seems shit in comparison when waking up next to you is this good.”

“Such a flirt, Sawamura,” he teased, giving the larger man a substantial punch to his bulky bicep, ignoring the very visceral reaction that tugged at his heart. 

“Ahh, Suga,” he laughed, rubbing the spot he had just been assaulted. “Your love taps are something else.”

“I also have ‘positivity karate chops’ and I will use them whenever necessary!” 

Daichi’s laughter was hearty and genuine, masculine without being overly loud or obnoxious. It was smooth and vibrant, just like the man himself. The blonde wasn’t sure if he had ever fallen for a laugh before, or if that was even possible. But what he did know was that he wanted to keep making Daichi laugh, to somehow be the source of his joy. 

“Well, then I hope for my sake they’re never necessary.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Would I?” Daichi asked, sitting up the rest of the way, propping his chin in a large, open palm. “Is Koushi Sugawara just a treasure trove of surprises?”

A sly grin split Suga’s face in two as he gave his suitor an impish look. “Would you like to hear one?”

“Lay it on me.”

“Well, that would probably be inappropriate...” the nurse hinted, causing Daichi’s thick brows to nearly pinch together, clearly questioning what was next.

“Would it?”

“Don’t look so excited, Daichi!!” Suga scolded with a flirty giggle. “I just have a tattoo.”

The brunette seemed to be mulling that information over, his cheeks turning a little ruddy. “Where?”

“Here,” Suga explained, raising his top just a little, allotting the other man a glimpse at this stomach. He may not have had the defined, cut abs that Daichi did, but his stomach was still lean and toned, the evidence of a dedicated runner. Suga gauged Daichi’s reaction carefully as he rolled down the band of his jeans, revealing a tattoo marked just at the ridge of his hip.

The brunette sat dumbfounded for a moment, but if he was in awe of the man’s body or just the art inked on it, Suga wasn’t sure. But he secretly hoped it was a little of both.

“‘ _Believe_ ’ _,_ ” Daichi read, eyes scanning over the blue-green ink once more. 

“Yes,” Suga gave a firm nod.

“Umm, like in yourself? Or like, in a higher power or--”

“Nah,” Suga interrupted with a flat deadpan, “aliens.”

Daichi blinked, clearly taken aback. “Aliens,” he repeated, stuck in a state of disbelief (which was the total opposite of what the tattoo was implying.)

“Yes.”

“So you believe…” he cleared his throat, trying to find a tone that didn’t sound utterly and completely condescending, “in aliens.”

“Me?” Suga scrunched his brows and shook his head. “Oh, god no!”

“No?” The poor guy was clearly stuck in some sort of loop, as if he were deciding whether this conversation was really happening- the sight of it gave Suga the giggles.

“No, _I_ don’t, but Tooru does,” he explained finally, feeling sympathetic toward the taller man. “We have matching tattoos.” And before Daichi could ask, Suga amended his last statement, “well, corresponding tattoos, not necessarily matching.”

“So does his say ‘ _believe_ ’ or…?”

Suga lowered his shirt and dismissed the sad, puppy dog look Daichi gave him for doing so. “No, he has an alien head tramp stamped right on his lower back.” It was true, just above his ass, Tooru sported the classic alien head, done in black ink, complete with the trademark oversized cranium and oval eyes. He and Hajime had only been dating then, and the latter was beyond pissed, an argument breaking out in Suga and Tooru’s shared little campus apartment:

_‘You think I wanna look at that creepy little thing while I hit it from the back?’_

_‘Iwa-chan, he’s so cute though!!’_

_‘I’m just gonna put my hand over it so I don’t have to see it.’_

_‘Or we could do missionary and face each other during!!’_

_‘Ugh, I’d rather look at the alien.’_

_‘Mean, Iwa-chan!’_

“So why did you get the tattoo then?” Daichi asked, pulling Suga from the memory. “Did you just want to support Tooru?”

The blonde shrugged, recalling that day nearly ten years ago. “I’m not sure, honestly. Partly it was because Tooru wanted someone to go with him for moral support. He and Hajime were in this weird on-and-off stage, they used to be really volatile back then, if you could guess it.” Daichi did not look the least bit surprised. “They loved each other a lot, and they never cheated or anything like that, they were just stubborn and piss poor communicators… well, kind of still are. 

“Anyway, I had just come out a few months before, and Tooru and Hajime were on one of their ‘off days’.” They never stayed broken up for more than a day, if it could even be called that. More often than not, it was just Tooru being melodramatic because Hajime took over three hours to text him back. “So Tooru decided he wanted a ‘pick me up’ and we went to the closest tattoo parlor. Since I had just come out and was feeling particularly bold, I told Tooru to pick something for me. And we laid on the beds and held hands and now I guess I ‘believe’.”

“You know what, Koushi, I _am_ surprised.” A fond sense of wonderment touched Daichi’s eyes when he smiled just then, his face boyish yet still so unapologetically handsome. 

“In a good way?” He knew he sounded overly hopeful, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

A kiss graced the tip of Suga’s nose, touched so softly by warm, confident lips. “In a very good way.”

\--------

_Pancakes._

He was back in his car - Suga had just dropped him off - and now they were headed in the respective vehicles to IHOP to have breakfast. A breakfast of pancakes with his best friend, his son, and his new boyfriend(???).

Daichi was doing his damndest to keep his mind on _pancakes_ and absolutely NOT on the fact he was wearing one of Suga’s t-shirts that smelled exactly like him, or that he had showered in man’s bathroom and now his skin was literally permeated with his scent. It was bergamot and sage and everything heavenly he could dream of. 

In all honesty, he was delighted that the blonde had agreed to join them for a breakfast date. It meant that he hadn’t scared him off last night with the mention of Yui. And it also meant this morning had gone well, too. Daichi was delighted to see the fun, adventurous side of Suga, as was physically evident given his tattoo. It also proved what a good friend he was, a true loyalist to those he loved. 

After that reveal, the duo got ready, Suga so graciously loaning him a new shirt and letting him borrow the shower. Gracious or evil, Daichi wasn’t entirely sure, because he could swear that the blonde could read his mind (or maybe just his super obvious facial expression) when the proposition of wearing something Suga had worn came up. Not to mention the downright sinful suggestion of “we could shower together and save water” a quip that had nearly caused him to self-destruct. 

After waving that flirtatious offer away (and regretting it later) and showering on his own, the only thing left for them to do was head to the restaurant. Of course, Suga dropped Daichi off in his car first, giving him ample alone time to scrutinize and overthink every single word, kiss, touch, and shared moment from the past 14 hours. Plus, he was still having difficulties wrapping his head around the fact that he had indeed just spent 14 hours with Suga, and the man _still_ wanted to eat breakfast with his family. 

It was a good feeling.

“Daddy!! Nurse Suga beat you here!” Tobio waved frantically as Daichi approached the front of the pancake house. His son’s hand was curled around his uncle’s, a beaming smile on his little face. Next to Kuroo stood a very demure and sweet looking school nurse.

“He must have a faster car than me,” the young dad mused, giving his son a wink.

“Mornin’ there, Truffles. I like your new shirt,” Kuroo teased, looking his best friend up and down. “It looks a little small. Did you get that at the Baby GAP?”

“It’s not mine,” he grumbled, trying to wave the bed head’s comments away. “And there are no GAP stores anymore, nice try.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue. “So it’s vintage then?” The comment earned him a disgruntled eye roll.

“Nurse Suga, did you and daddy stay up and play video games on your sleepover?” Tobio asked, turning toward the blonde. Suga giggled, and Daichi felt his insides contract.

“No, I’m afraid we didn’t play video games.”

“Well, then what did you do?” Tobio raised a little eyebrow and tilted his head as the four made their way inside.

“Yeah, what _did_ you do?” Kuroo shot the pair in question a shit-eating grin. “And by the way, I put our name down before you got here,” he added as Daichi went to approach the front counter.

“Mind your business, Tetsu,” the young dad growled, hiding a blush that was forming on his cheeks.

“Okay, so what did _you_ do, Nurse Suga?” Kuroo waggled his eyebrows at that, and Suga’s face took on a color to match Daichi’s. “Hmm, no answer, but nobody is walking with a limp, so I am mildly disappointed.”

“Why would they have limps?” Tobio asked, sounding very concerned.

“Oh, um, from playing too much baseball,” Daichi lied quickly, hoping to sound smooth. Suga was turned away, shoulders shaking from his incessant giggling.

“Daddy, you play baseball?” Now he was downright confused.

“Something about the pants, probably,” Kuroo snickered under his breath.

“Umm, is there a Daichi?” asked the hostess, interrupting the quickly spiraling conversation, much to Daichi’s relief. “We’re ready for your party of 4.”

The bell on the restaurant’s front door chimed behind them, and the sound was immediately followed by a, “I’m sorry, can you add two more to that?” All three adults whipped their heads around at the unmistakable voice, the sing-song lilt a dead giveaway. “I’m afraid we were running a bit late.”

“ _Tooru_!” Suga hissed, snatching his best friend’s arm as he approached. “What are you doing here?!”

“Mr. Iwaizumi?” Tobio asked, looking up at his principal. Tooru was dressed down considerably from how Daichi had encountered him in the past. This morning, he was wearing athletic shorts that accented his trim thighs and a faded t-shirt that read ‘Seijo University Cheer’. 

“Hello, little Tobio-chan! How are you this morning?”

“I’m good!” he beamed, smile so wide that the corners of his cobalt eyes crinkled.

From beside him, his husband grunted at Suga, “Shittykawa saw you here on your Snapchat map.”

“Language!” the blonde scolded, gesturing toward Tobio.

The little brunette boy didn’t look phased. “Uncle ‘Roo says worse.”

“Tetsurou!” Daichi chided his friend, giving him a death glare. The tall man shrugged nonchalantly as if he had no idea what Tobio was talking about.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Suga said firmly, growing increasingly annoyed.

The hostess looked extremely concerned. “Umm, yeah we have a 6 person table open if you’re ready to be seated now.”

“Ah yes, please excuse us. We are _famished_ and would love to have a table,” Tooru cooed, laying on his sweet tone thick and heavy. It was poisonous honey, in Daichi’s opinion. That man could have easily been a con artist. 

_Maybe he is and that was how he landed Hajime._

“Daddy!” Tobio exclaimed, reaching over to latch onto his father’s hand as well, making a little chain with Kuroo, “can I have chocolate chip pancakes today?” 

“Depends,” Daichi asked as they walked, “were you good for the babysitters?”

“Duh, dad!”

The hostess led them to a table in the back, a good decision on her part if they were going to have a repeat of the bar from the night before. Granted, alcohol wasn’t going to be involved, but he couldn’t help the fear that shenanigans might ensue: Kuroo and Tooru were already proving to be a lethal combination.

“Okay,” the brunette dad nodded, placing a booster seat on the wooden chair before helping his son climb into. “Then you can have chocolate chip pancakes but you have to eat some of my eggs, too.” Tobio nodded.

“Your server will be right with you!” the hostess offered them all her best smile before heading back the way she came.

Daichi sat with his son between him and Kuroo. On the other side of the table, Suga was seated in front of Daichi, with Tooru and Hajime to his right. 

“Clearly I was very concerned, Suga-chan,” Tooru was explaining, Daichi jumping in at the tail end of their conversation. 

“Of what?” Koushi asked incredulously, turning toward his own best friend.

Tooru stuck his nose in the air, a gesture of clear offense. “Of anything, Koushi! You can have been kidnapped on your way home last night!”

The blonde rolled his eyes but turned back to his menu. “I literally texted you and told you I was fine.”

“You’re having no issue walking this morning, so your night couldn’t have been that _fine_ ,” Tooru purred, earning him a swift elbow to the ribs from his husband. This was followed by a whiny, insufferable cry of ‘ _Iwa-chan!’_.

“Yes, I am also curious,” Kuroo cut in, lowering his menu and simultaneously handing Tobio his phone, some sort of colorful bubble game already pulled up on the screen. “Please share the details and transpirings that resulted in my best friend sleeping over at your house, Nurse Suga.”

Daichi glanced nervously down at this son who was already completely enthralled in the handheld video game he was playing before he pleaded, “please don’t bug us about this.” Suga’s ears were red as tomatoes as he tried to hide behind his menu. It was really fucking adorable.

“Suga-chan is so boring, he never kisses and tells,” Tooru sighed, leaning into his husband who only gave him a quick shrug paired with a ‘get the hell off me’.

“Welcome to IHOP, my name is Kenma, can I get you started with some coffee?” Daichi looked up to see their server, a petite man with bleached blonde hair pulled into a neat bun, showing off his dark brown roots. He had a sleepy look to him, his large, golden eyes fixed to the little notebook in his hand. 

“I’ll have a coffee, black,” Hajime ordered, voice composed of gruff and gravel. 

“Oh, I want one iced, please! A caramel latte with whipped cream and several pumps of vanilla,” Tooru told him, looking like an excited kid in a candy store.

“Tooru are you ordering coffee or ice cream?” Suga teased, making the lanky brunette roll his eyes. Tooru huffed at the mark while Hajime smirked. “I’ll take a coffee too, please.”

“I’d like a coffee, too, and a glass of water. And milk for my son, please,” Daichi ordered.

The server turned toward Kuroo, an expectant look on his otherwise blase face. When his best friend didn’t say anything, Daichi looked to see that the dark-haired man was simply sitting there, staring, his mouth hanging open and his yellow eyes wide.

“Would you like a coffee too?” the waiter asked, voice a little quiet.

“Umm, y-yes,” Kuroo stuttered finally, swallowing the thick lump in his throat.

“Okay,” the bleach-blonde said, “I’ll be right back with your beverages.”

As the short man disappeared, heading back toward the kitchen, Kuroo turned to see that the whole table was staring at him, apart from the preoccupied Tobio. 

Unsurprisingly, Tooru was the first to comment. “Wow, that was painfully obvious,” he stated, pushing his chestnut bangs out of his face.

“ _What_?” Kuroo snapped, folding his long arms over his slender chest in a huff. 

Daichi arched a brow. “Kuroo, do you think he’s cute?”

The raven-haired man clicked his tongue in an admonishing fashion. “Tch - no.”

“I think someone fell in love at first sight,” Suga commented, joining in on the fun.

“Oh like either of you has room to talk,” Hajime chastised, glancing between his husband and his husband’s best friend. “Tooru - you fell in love with me the very first time you saw me play basketball and Koushi, you’re so in love with the man across from you it’s not even funny. Give the damn dude a break.”

“Oh, wow, Iwa-chan sure is in a mood today,” Tooru whined. “A little hangry, are we?”

“Fuck yeah I’m _hangry_ ,” the spikey-haired businessman retorted. “I am also hungover and you dragged me out of the house just so you could be the third wheel to Suga this morning. Let the man have his date in peace, damn.”

Tooru was quick on the defensive, and the whole exchange was turning Suga’s entire being a heavily saturated, and totally endearing, shade of pink. “I have to check these things, Hajime, you _know_ that--”

“You’re meddling, Tooru. And I explicitly told you to _stop_.”

Thankfully, at that moment, the blonde server reappeared, a tray of drinks in tow. He handed them out, each patron murmuring a polite ‘thank you’. Daichi took the glass of milk and sat in front of Tobio, prompting him to get off of his phone.

“Is that Zombie Wars 5?” the waiter asked, leaning over Tobio’s shoulder to peer down at Kuroo’s screen.

Daichi blinked. _Zombie Wars 5?_ Wasn’t he just playing a bubble popping game a moment ago?

“Mhmm!” his son exclaimed, his big, cobalt eyes fixed on what was clearly some sort of battle with an undead creature. “I have unlimited power-ups right now and I’m gonna get into the big mansion.”

“Unlimited power-ups?” the server asked. “That’s impressive. I haven’t made it through the swamp yet. How did you get those? Did you have a code?”

Tobio shook his head. “Uncle ‘Roo’s credit card was saved so I bought them.”

“Dang, that must be a cool Uncle.”

“I am the coolest Uncle,” Kuroo piped up, acting totally unphased that Tobio had just admitted to using his credit card for unlimited power-ups. Daichi didn’t know what exactly that was, but it sounded expensive. And he was going to have to have a long talk with his best friend about spoiling his kid and letting him play violent video games.

“You’re Uncle ‘Roo?” the server asked.

“Tetsurou Kuroo, but my friends just call me Kuroo,” the bed head explained, turning in his chair and thrusting a large hand forward. The bleach-blonde looked down suspiciously but eventually took it. 

“I’m Kenma Kozume,” he stated softly. He released the man’s hand then picked up his pen once more. “Can I take your orders please?”

Hajime ordered steak and eggs, while Tooru asked for the Rootie Tootie Fresh’n’Fruity with extra whip and strawberries. Suga ordered the Southwest omelet, requesting extra jalapenos and sriracha sauce (Daichi felt phantom heartburn in his chest at the very idea of eating that order). Daichi stuck to his usual - a plain short stack with a side of bacon and scrambled eggs, and of course, chocolate chip pancakes for his son. Kuroo stumbled over his order, eventually spitting out ‘cheese omelet with sausage links’. 

“Oh my god, do you know what his uniform is made out of?” Kuroo asked the group once Kenma had left, headed back in the direction of the kitchen.

“Polyester?” Suga guessed, squinting a little in thought. Daichi wanted to lean over and kiss him so badly.

“ _Boyfriend material_ ,” Kuroo answered, slamming his hands on the table, making the beverages quiver.

“Called it,” Tooru said out the corner of his mouth.

Before Kuroo could make a snotty comment in return, Tobio’s howl of surprise caught them off-guard, the six-year-old fully engrossed into the phone’s screen.

“Okay, so what exactly is my son playing?” Daichi asked, leaning over to look down at the noisy game. He grimaced as he noticed there was an exuberant amount of 2D blood. Yes, he definitely needed to have a chat with Kuroo once they were alone again. 

“Uhh,” Kuroo stalled, reaching down to grab the phone. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Uncle ‘Roo! Give that back, I almost beat him!” Tobio protested, earning a stifled giggle from Suga. Daichi couldn’t deny that Tobio’s pout was amongst the cutest things on the planet, with the way his lips stuck out and his nose scrunched. Yui used to give that same look every time something didn’t go her way. 

‘ _Dai!_ ’ she would whine, ‘ _but we got to watch your show last time!’_ or ‘ _just_ one _more kiss!_ ’ or ‘ _why did you put chives in this? I hate chives, babe!_ ’ 

And Daichi would hang the moon and the stars, giving her whatever she wanted. His heart hurt briefly, a fluttering inside his chest at the thought of her voice, the sound as effervescent and sweet as cream-colored hyacinth. As he ran his fingers through the dark hair at the nape of his son’s neck, he couldn’t keep the heartbroken smile from finding its way to his face.

“Daddy, quit, food is here!” The little boy gently pushed his dad’s hand away as a steaming stack of chocolate chips pancakes arrived.

“Alright, alright,” Dachi laughed, letting go of his son’s hair and turning to focus on the table, that same smile still painted on his lips. 

///

Watching Daichi interact with his family was something so powerful, Suga had difficulties describing it. He was an elevated man when he was both his son and his best friend. His smile was wider, his dark eyes all the brighter, and everything seemed to make sense. 

The blond felt a surge of jealousy in his stomach as he witnessed the interaction, though he immediately felt bad about it. It was a confusing feeling, because he wasn’t jealous of Kuroo, not exactly. They clearly never dated or anything of the like, given the information Daichi had told him last night. But Suga couldn’t help feeling _envious_ \- maybe that was the better word. He wanted to be a part of that, too. He wanted all of it with Daichi.

And that realization made his heart seize up. 

“Just one embarrassing story of Hot Dad-chan, that’s all I ask,” Tooru pleaded, causing Koushi to twist his head around. His best friend was petitioning the lanky, raven-haired man. From beside him, Hajime grunted in disapproval.

“Just one?” Kuroo teased, giving a devilish side-eye. Across from him, Daichi reddened. 

“I mean, I’ll go tit-for-tat: every Daichi story earns you a Suga story.” 

“No fucking way,” Daichi growled, obviously trying to keep his voice low so Tobio wouldn’t hear it.

“Yes, way!” Tooru insisted. “You go first, Tetsu-chan.”

And that was how the dynamic duo entered into a painfully grueling back-and-forth share-fest, revealing dirt about each other's respective best friends. Most of the stories were appropriate, some of them more mild than others. 

Suga learned that Daichi called his homeroom teacher ‘mom’ on accident several times during their sophomore year. Also, once in junior high, he drank a giant red slushie from 7/11 before football practice and then threw up all over the end zone. Their coach called an ambulance because he thought Daichi was vomiting blood and was super pissed to find out it was actually just a cherry Coke slushie. And last, but not least, Daichi’s mom used to make him dress up in a little suit and sing in the church choir every Sunday. That didn’t sound so bad until Kuroo clarified that Daichi, during a quite stellar rendition of ‘How Great Thou Art’ , got performance anxiety and passed out while on the risers, knocking down a bunch of 80-year-old ladies.

Suga didn’t go without his own beating, and Tooru’s stories were much, _much_ worse. At least it felt that way because they were about Suga, and some stuff, he just wasn’t ready for Daichi to know. So the very handsome young dad learned that Suga had to play the female lead during their middle school’s production of ‘Romeo & Juliet’ because Suga was the only one ‘pretty’ enough for the part after the main lead got the shingles and had to drop out three days before opening night. (Daichi nodded in agreement with the 'pretty' part, though, so that didn’t seem so bad.) Tooru also made sure to fill in the parts about braces, bad haircuts, and the little lisp Suga had until the 9th grade. 

“Okay, last one!” Kuroo assured Daichi, who only groaned, burying his head in his hands. All of their plates were empty and the bleach-blonde waiter assured them he’d be back with their check. (Kuroo still seemed to be blushing over that fact.) “I promise, Dai, and this is it!”

“I mean, I have really just given up, so it doesn’t matter,” the brunette admonished, burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t even look at Suga, and his embarrassment was exceptionally cute.

“Okay, so Truffle Shuffles here used to be _terrified_ of praying mantises, right? Like, horrified!”

Suga tilted his head at that. “Why is that?”

“Because our neighbor, Yui, told Daichi that they would bite his fingers off!” Kuroo was basically sobbing with laughter now, cat-like eyes crinkled to a close as he howled and giggled. “And there was one on Daichi’s front porch and he didn’t leave the house the whole day because of it!”

“I was _ten_ , Tetsu!” 

Suga’s eyes trailed to Tobio as he looked up at Kuroo. “Why would mama lie to dad like that?” He didn’t miss the mention of the boy’s mother, a little grin plastered on his face, a little smudge of syrup on his plump cheek.

“See, even a six-year-old knows that’s not true,” Kuroo insisted. "And because your mom was just a little mean. I think she wanted to keep your dad inside all day to play Barbies with her instead of coming out to play hide and seek with me."

“Yeah, well,” Hajime interjected, leaning forward, speaking with that authoritative voice of his, “Tooru writes _True Blood_ fan-fiction and always writes himself as the love interest of Alcide Herveaux.”

" _Iwa-chan!"_ Tooru gave a horrified gasp.

Kuroo laughed at that and a wide smile found its way to Daichi’s rugged face.

Hajime looked very smug as he glanced to his immediate left. “And Suga reads it.”

“Jesus, that’s enough storytime!” the blonde insisted, hiding his face in his hands, trying to shield his own shame. But when he peeked out from behind pale fingers, he saw an amused glint in Daichi’s eye.

"Let me tell you about some tattoos," Hajime added, green eyes flashing.

And at that moment, Suga's face heated for an entirely different reason that absolutely had nothing to do with the memory of Daichi eyeing his bare torso just an hour earlier. (or so he told himself)

\-----------

“Mom, I’m in love!” 

“How in love, honey?” the older woman on Facetime asked, her dark brown eyes shining with questions. 

Kuroo tilted the phone so it was squarely on him, completely cutting Daichi and Tobio out of the picture. “So in love! He might be my soul mate.”

Daichi laughed and rolled his eyes, snatching the phone back. “Mom, just ignore him. They met at breakfast and that was all.”

The black-haired man tried to weasel back into the camera’s frame, an annoyed defiance on his face. Between them, Tobio giggled, clearly entertained by what was happening. “He gave me his phone number!” He unlocked his phone screen and held up what was clearly a contact listing. “See? His name is Kenma.”

“That’s lovely both of you boys are finding someone!” Mrs. Sawamura gushed from her end. She was dressed in one of her signature floral print tops, the pattern so loud and campy, it was almost overwhelming on the small screen. “Daichi, honey, how was your date?”

The brunette paused, that question mulling in his brain. How was his date? Did he even possess a vocabulary large enough to describe it? It was wonderful. Perfect. Everything he could ever ask for and more. He literally went out dancing and drinking with the world’s most beautiful man, and then ended the night with an exceptionally steamy makeout session and feeling like he could open up emotionally to him. There was a connection there, no doubt. 

“His date was fine, mom, now get back to me,” Kuroo interrupted before Daichi could even begin to get words out - typical Tetsu. However, Daichi was grateful for the taller man’s intuition - he wasn’t ready to have the talk about him and Suga yet, at least not in front of his son. He didn’t want to make their relationship any more confusing to Tobio than it already was. And no, not because they were gay, but simply because Daichi didn’t know how to explain to Tobio that he was dating. It was something he had never done before, or even tried to do, and he wasn’t entirely sure how his son would react. He wasn’t sure if Tobio was old enough to understand.

“Tetsu, honey,” Mrs. Sawamura’s tone turned, using one that Daichi and Kuroo both remembered fondly, “you will have to come over for supper when you get back. But right now, my other son is in trouble because he hasn’t called me in three days!”

“Mom,” Daichi groaned, “I was very busy with a last-minute proposal at work. I told you that!”

Mrs. Sawamura shook her head. “I don’t care how busy you are, sweetheart. I wanted to see my son and grandson.”

“He’s a bad son, mom, unlike me,” Kuroo added, giving a sly grin. “I guess that means I get all the apple strudel at Thanksgiving this year and Daichi gets none.”

“Speaking of the holidays,” Mrs. Sawamura began, and Daichi suddenly wished the couch would swallow him whole, “have you decided on what you’re doing for the holidays?”

“Mom, Thanksgiving is two months away and Christmas is three.”

“Time flies, honey, you know that!” Yes, Daichi did indeed know that, but the holidays were admittedly low on his totem pole. “Are you going to come home for them or do you want us to come visit?”

“Gramma, you should come to see us!” Tobio added, smiling wide. His blue eyes were clear and bright, like a summer day at high noon. “I want you to see our house! And my room! And meet Nurse Suga!” 

“I would love to see you, honey! And I want all three of us to buy plane tickets: me, your father, and of course, Tetsu.”

“Mom,” Daichi groaned, a lump rising in his throat. “I don’t know if dad will come.”

“He will if he’s not out on his boat!”

And at that moment, Kuroo and Daichi exchanged a look, and anxiety balled in his chest, squeezing his heart with a closed fist. Daichi knew his dad wouldn’t come - he would never come to visit his ‘faggot’ son. It wasn’t a good memory, coming out to his parents a few years ago, Kuroo blessedly at his side. His mom was overwhelmed at first, but after a few moments, she rose to her feet and enclosed her arms around her only son and said, ‘I’ll love you no matter what’.

His father, a stoic man named Reo, didn’t react the same. He only looked Daichi up and down before scowling heavily, his anger and disappointment evident in every plane of his angular face. “Imagine how upset Yui would be to know you replaced her with a man.”

And those words had resonated with Daichi ever since.

Taking account of her son’s silence, she said in a warm, motherly tone, “you never know, my love, miracles happen all the time!” 

Thinking of the gray-haired angel who had miraculously fallen into his life, he couldn’t help the hope bubbling in his chest cavity. “That they do,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all!! Thank you again SO much for all of your kind comments and kudos. I am still so freaking blown away, it warms my heart! :) 
> 
> I hope you had a few laughs in this chapter, and sorry I got all 'Emo Bokuto' mode on you guys last chapter. I am a mess lol. Did you like the surprise appearance?! I hope so!!
> 
> Also, I have green-lit doing a side one-shot of IwaOi and their baby drama and makeup sex. It will be posted next before I post another chapter here. I will post it as part of this series, but not actually a chapter, so check back in the coming week for it to be up or check my Tumblr! I am excluding it from the main story since it has passed, but also, it's gonna be a little smutty lmao. I mean, this fic has the tag of # eventual smut, but again, we all know IwaOi is a different breed *nervous laughter* Again, this main story will eventually provide a recap of what happened, so if smut isn't your thing, feel free to skip the one-shot. 
> 
> Fun fact: my mom lied to me when I was little and told me the praying mantis on the front porch would bite my fingers off if I went outside because she didn't want to supervise me playing in the yard. I stayed inside with her instead and watched Soap Operas. I didn't find out until I was in high school that a praying mantis could not, in fact, bite my fingers off, so that was fun haaaa.
> 
> Thank you, again, I can't even begin to explain the serotonin your feedback brings to me. You guys are so freaking amazing and it warms my soul!! Love you, see you soon! Be well!
> 
> PS: super shout out to my girl aj--honey for the help with OiSuga's tats! You are a genius my friend!


	12. Tough Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!! Did you miss me? Because I sure missed you! This has been a crazy busy week at work, but it's also been nice because we met all of our enrollment goals and our college President is actually super proud of us? Anyway, it feels good to be productive!!
> 
> Fair warning, this chapter feels a bit disjointed? I dunno, you tell me. I'll have more notes at the bottom, but I hope you enjoy reading it anyway! If you missed the IwaOi side story, I suggest going back and reading it real quick before you continue on, as this chapter holds a bit of a recap of what happened there. But it has *nervous laughter* smut in the one-shot, and if that's not your cup of tea, no worries! Just keep reading here. 
> 
> Thanks y'all!!
> 
> Side bar: I also * JUST * figured out how bookmarks work? Like. Wow. Putting that master's degree to good use, whew. Anyway, y'all have said some super sweet things in your bookmarks, so thank you for that, too ❤

The rest of the weekend flew by, and before either had a chance to really process it, it was just a few hours before Daichi would have to drive his best friend to the airport and deal with the giant question mark that lingered over their heads: when would they see each other again?

“You’ve got a real nice house here, babe,” Kuroo commented from his place on the sectional sofa, one long, athletic leg tucked up under his body, the other stretched out across the cushions, his wide, golden eyes fixed toward the large, bay-style window that gave a beautiful view of the oversized oak tree in the backyard. 

“Really?” Daichi asked, sleepily rubbing at one of his eyelids. He was standing at the kitchen island willing his damn Keurig to heat up. Tetsu’s flight wasn’t for another few hours, and he would need to wake Tobio up soon, but he just wanted a moment to themselves to enjoy coffee and have one final ‘grown-up’ conversation before the little brunette joined them for breakfast.

“Sure, Truffles,” Kuroo replied, propping his elbow up on the armrest and nestling his face into the open expanse of his palm. The use of his childhood nickname earned Kuroo an eye-roll, but the bedhead kept talking. “You can tell this will be a really nice home for you and Tobes. You did well.”

_ You did well _ . That compliment warmed Daichi’s chest more than any special Columbian roast ever could. That’s all he ever wanted out of this lifetime, was to do well and be a good dad and good person and take care of those around him. “Thanks, Tetsu,” Daichi said finally, giving his friend a heartfelt smile.

“Yui would be proud of you,” the taller brunette added, watching carefully from the corner of his eye to gauge Daichi’s reaction. The young dad only felt his face soften and his stomach turned fluttery at the comment. 

“You think so?” Daichi asked, hitting the button on the coffeemaker, listening closely as it whirred to life.

“I  _ know _ so,” Kuroo stated with a firm nod. “Tobio is a sweet kid, and you’ve really outdone yourself here.”

“We’ve hardly even been here that long,” Daichi tried to counter, but his best friend wouldn’t stand for it.

“Yeah, and that’s exactly what I’m saying. You’ve only been here for little over a month and you’ve already scored yourself several dates with what is the  _ hottest  _ school nurse I have  _ ever  _ laid eyes on.” The raven-haired chemist ignored the death glare he was receiving and continued on, “I mean, holy fuck Daichi, if that man had been our school nurse at any point, I would be up in there with a stomach ache, broken arm, asthma attack fucking  _ daily _ . I mean, the principal was hot, too, and so is your boss for that matter, he’s kinda scary sexy though. Like, how many seconds do you think it would take in a chokehold from him before you saw God?”

Daichi sighed heavily, doing his best not to picture being choked out beneath Hajime - that wasn’t really his cup of tea. And besides that, Daichi was pretty sure Hajime could out-bench him, and that was a huge no-no to his self-esteem. Hajime was a good-looking dude, but Daichi preferred guys with a softer look, maybe with ash-gray hair and a petite build and incredibly kissable pink lips... 

“Please don’t talk about my boss like that,” he pleaded as he walked a steaming hot cup over to Kuroo, who only beamed at the sight. “Or my… son’s school nurse.”

“Oh?” a thin black brow arched high on Kuroo’s forehead. “‘Your son’s school nurse’? Is that all Suga is to you, even after this weekend?” 

That was a difficult question to answer, and one that Daichi had been rolling over and over in his skull since they kissed goodbye at breakfast Saturday morning. That hadn’t texted much this weekend, which was to be expected - Daichi was busy with Kuroo and Tobio, the trio making the most of their time together. 

After brunch on Saturday, they hit the arcade, where Kuroo proceeded to win his nephew an oversized flying fish plush after hitting the ticket jackpot on the mock roulette wheel. Daichi is still convinced that Kuroo rigged it somehow using that terrifyingly intelligent brain of his, but the young dad didn’t say anything. As long as Tobio was happy with his weird fish plush, that was all that mattered at the end of the day. They had filled the rest of the weekend with a trip to the science center (another chance for Kuroo to show off), a visit to their local park where Kuroo proceeded to give Tobio ‘underdogs’ so high that Daichi felt his chest constrict in panic, and then they stopped by the little ice cream shop that was located near their house.

‘The Rolling Thunder’ was a niche ice cream parlor that specialized in rolled ice cream, which apparently, was a sweeping fad in the midwest. Daichi went with what was pretty safe - vanilla with chocolate syrup and sprinkles. It was times like these, though, that Daichi was convinced that his son was actually biologically related to Kuroo, the mischievous uncle convincing the boy to pile his high with basically every ingredient under the sun - Oreos, chocolate chips, and for some reason, Fruit Loops. Kuroo had paid for it, of course, even though Daichi had challenged him earlier in the day to an arm-wrestling competition in which the shorter brunette had won - winner got to pay. (Daichi acknowledged that this might be a bit ass-backward to others, and the loser would normally pay, but he was sick of Tetsu trying to fucking pay for everything when he already bought a plane ticket to come see them!)

So, long story short, Daichi hadn’t really talked much to Suga over the remainder of the long weekend simply because he had just been so busy. The young dad worried that Suga might be upset, but tried to brush it off. The sweet nurse wasn’t really that kind of guy, at least not from what Daichi could tell. He didn’t seem the jealous type or the sort to panic over not talking. Daichi made a mental note to call him tonight after he put Tobio to bed, to clear the air and catch up before the workweek picked up.

“Yo, earth to Daichi!” Kuroo snapped his fingers in front of the shorter man’s face, causing him to blink heavily and refocus his attention toward his best friend. “Dude, I asked you a question.”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat it?” 

“I asked if you and Suga are boyfriends or what the deal is?” Kuroo narrowed his eyes, taking a long sip from his mug, the words ‘XLT Financial Employee of the Quarter’ embossed on the side in golden lettering.

“I-- um, I’m not sure,” Daichi explained sheepishly, leaning back against the couch cushions. “I just asked if we could keep doing ‘this’,” he mimed the gesture he had made a few days ago, “and he agreed.”

“And you told him about Yui?” Kuroo obviously asked that question carefully, his voice hanging onto a tone that sounded both concerned and fearful. What was he afraid of, though? Daichi wondered. Perhaps he was simply worried about Daichi getting his heart broken, or feared him being rejected because of everything that happened. 

“Actually, Tobio did,” Daichi confessed. A stunned ‘pardon me?’ fell from Kuroo’s lips as he lowered his mug in disbelief. Daichi then began to tell him what had transpired, explaining how Suga found out, and what exactly he had told the beautiful blonde that night in the nurse’s apartment.

“So what you’re saying is, he doesn’t really know anything at all?” Kuroo asked finally, once Daichi had finished recounting his story.

“He knows that we were married and that she passed away. And that this is my first relationship with a man…” Daichi let his voice trail off.

“So he doesn’t know that Yui was our best friend, not just your wife? Because,” Kuroo started, and then stopped. He took a deep breath and leaned forward to set his empty mug on the coffee table before taking one of Daichi’s large hands in between his. “You’re allowed to move on and find a new love, Daichi, you are. I want that for you, Yui wanted that for you, and your mom wants that for you. I’m sure if we asked Tobio, he would say that he wants that for you, too. We all support you and we never expected you to stay single.”

Daichi’s eyes found the floor, he couldn’t look at Kuroo while he said what was coming next, not without crying or becoming overly emotional. 

“But I want to make sure that Koushi Sugawara understands that you will never completely be over her. She was our best friend and will always be Tobio’s mom. It’s not a break-up with a college girlfriend or something. You will always love her in some way, and I want to make sure he’s okay with that.”

Unsure of what to say or how to answer, he simply leaned sideways, resting his head on Kuroo’s broad shoulder. The taller man responded by placing a chaste, loving kiss on the top of Daichi’s dark head. “I know you’re navigating a lot of new waters with this relationship, Dai. I  _ know _ that, and while I absolutely want this to work out and I am totally on team DaiSuga--”

“Team Dai...what?” Daichi asked, flicking an inquisitive look in Kuroo’s direction.

“It's your couple’s name, like ‘Brangelina’ back when they were together,” he explained with a shrug, as if that answered Daichi’s question.

“So we’re… DaiSuga…?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“Duh.”

“Daddy! Uncle ‘Roo!” came the familiar and energetic greeting paired with the heavy thump of tiny feet on the wooden stairs. 

“Hey, buddy!” Both men greeted in unison, turning to see the little black-haired boy dressed in his pajama set that was covered in little polar bears, the front of the PJ shirt featuring a big, fuzzy cartoon bear saying ‘ _ Don’t bother me, I’m hibernating _ ’. 

“Are you guys drinking coffee?” he asked, scrunching his nose.

“Yes,” Daichi laughed, lifting his head from Kuroo’s shoulder and holding out his arms, prompting the six-year-old to come and join them in a cuddle. Tobio happily accepted the offer, scurrying to the sofa and settling between his dad and uncle. He curled a tiny hand around each man’s bicep, humming in satisfaction.

“I am glad we get to cuddle together,” he said simply, closing his cobalt eyes and enjoying the warmth on either side of him.

“Yeah?” Kuroo asked, emotion thick in his voice. Daichi felt the nostalgia build up in his chest, too. He couldn’t believe how much he’d come to miss the simple things like this in such a short time.

“Mhmm,” Tobio hummed. “Can we stay like this for a few minutes before we make breakfast?”

“Sure, buddy,” Daichi said, kissing him on the top of his dark head, getting a whiff of that strawberry kid’s shampoo he had come to associate with his son. “Whatever you want.”

\----------

**Daichi [10:28 p.m.]** _Can I call you?_

Suga blinked down at his phone. Oh god, Daichi wanted to call him?! Why was he freaking out? Wasn’t that a good thing? He had just gotten out of the shower and was snuggled up in his favorite black, satin robe and in his hand, he clutched onto an overly-full glass of red wine.

What was there to panic about?

**Suga [10:31 p.m.]** _Of course you can. Now?_

He didn’t receive a second text as a response. Instead, his phone vibrated to life, the name ‘Daichi’ lighting up his screen. Suga took a deep breath, let it ring one more time, then leaned back against his headboard. “Hello?” he asked, silently cursing himself. Did his voice sound sultry? There’s no way it sounded sultry. 

“Hey, Suga,” came the voice over the line, Daichi’s deep timbre immediately sending a flush to his cheeks. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” Suga replied sweetly as he tried to get his heart rate to slow down. “I have wine, so I’m pretty more than alright, I suppose.”

“Oh?” Daichi laughed, and Suga wanted to wrap himself up in it. “Now who’s the alcoholic?” 

“Oh, it’s always been me, clearly,” the nurse said, a visceral flutter spiking in his chest at Daichi’s chuckle. “I can’t believe you ever once thought it was you.”

“I did tell you the only thing I had unpacked was my coffee pot and my whiskey glasses the second time we met.”

Suga shrugged, though he knew Daichi couldn’t see it. “Watching you blush and squirm in my office was by far the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” A pause fell over the line, and Suga giggled. “You’re blushing and squirming right now, aren’t you?”

“...maybe.”

Suga pulled his phone away from his face, and without giving it a second thought, hit the button to request changing the call to video chat. It took a moment, but soon the display came to life and it featured a real-time feed of a one very sexy, work-out wear clad Daichi laying on his bed. He was wearing one of those sleeveless compression tops that was practically painted on, his face a little flushed, highlighting a charming, boyish expression. Suga, in yet another obvious act of shameless flirting, gave a low wolf-whistle, which managed to turn Daichi’s cheeks from a pale pink to a bright carmine. 

“Hey, stud,” Suga gave a little wink.

“Umm… Koushi?” Daichi asked, clearly flustered. 

“Yeah?”

“Did you, uh, just get out of the shower?”

_ Oh, fuck _ . It was the blonde’s turn to feel a bit of embarrassment as he looked down at what he was wearing - yup, still totally, 100% wearing his satin robe and  _ nothing else. _ Well, this facetime just got a lot more interesting.  _ Play it off, Koushi.  _

“Uh, I suppose I did.” He raised his glass to the screen and settled into the pillow. The shoulder of his robe was sliding a little, giving Daichi a wide glimpse at his defined collarbone that was covered in porcelain skin and peppered with the tiniest of freckles and angel kisses. “Did you just get done working out?”

Daichi glanced down at his biceps, rubbing the back of his neck furiously, which only showed them off to the camera more. He was clearly more than a little embarrassed, and it was so adorable, Suga thought he would combust right there in his bedroom. “Uh, I suppose I did,” Daichi stated, repeating the words that Suga had just said to him. The blonde giggled. 

“What was your routine like?” the school nurse teased. “Did you do lots of push-ups?”

Daichi smiled, the shy grin splitting his face in two. “Yes.”

“Like, a hundred?”

“More than that, actually.”

“Flex.”

“Pardon?” the young dad asked with a bashful lilt to his voice.

Suga only swirled the rich red wine around in his glass before he took another sip. “I said you should flex and show me.”

The brunette paused a moment, as if contemplating that, and cleared his throat.  _ He’s shy - that’s so fucking adorable _ . In Suga’s past experiences, hot, thick-ass beefy dudes usually jumped at the opportunity to show off their ‘gains’ or whatever. He and Tooru both, admittedly, had a type, and the two best friends loved their beefcakes. Hajime filled that slot and now certainly, so did Daichi.

Finally, the brunette businessman held the camera further away from himself with one hand while the other arm did the traditional flexing pose, showcasing his absolutely  _ jacked _ bicep and thick forearms. Suga had to swallow another big gulp of wine to keep his initial, dirty thoughts from escaping his brain and being stated aloud.

“Holy shit,” the blonde whispered, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to catch any of the red liquid still clinging to his lips. “You’ve gotta be joking.”

Daichi shook his head. “They’re not that great.” 

_ How the actual fuck does he look like that but still stay so humble?! _

“They’re really fucking great, actually,” Suga countered, lowering his now empty glass to the nightstand. “How did I sleep wrapped in those arms two nights ago but I didn’t take full advantage of those total fucking cannons protruding from your shoulders?!” 

“Uhh….” Daichi blinked at the camera, his dark brown eyes looking like rich chocolate underneath the low haze of his own bedroom lamp. “You’re a gentleman?”

Suga scoffed and shook his head. “Hardly, it’s more like  _ you’re  _ the gentleman. So tell me Dai, what’s under the compression top, hmm?” Now the alcohol must be really getting to his head because that was totally  _ not  _ supposed to come out of his mouth. 

“My stomach?” Daichi questioned, raising an eyebrow, face now totally, completely the same shade of scarlet that his wine had been. 

“You know what, scratch that,” Suga instructed, waving a hand in front of the camera, trying to soothe his embarrassment. “That was a shitty thing to ask, I’m so sorry.”

“How was it shitty?”

“Well, I’m clearly not just interested in you for your body, I’m just a little tipsy from my bedtime wine but also kind of drunk on how sexy you look right now.” Suga took a deep breath to compose himself. “And I’m sorry.”

“Ah, please don’t be,” Daichi requested, shaking his head. “I’ve just been… out of the game a long time.”

“Me too.”

“I told you a little bit about my past. Would it be rude to ask how long you’ve been single?”

“Not rude at all.” Suga sighed and closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the sleigh headboard. “It’s been about three years.”

Daichi did absolutely nothing to mask his shock. “Three years?! How? Who are these dumb ass dudes who don’t want to date you?!”

“I mean, to be fair, I had an absolute shitty string of dumb ass dudes who did want to date me, so that was way worse.”

“How shitty?” Daichi asked, features suddenly taking on a darker, menacing quality. 

“Don’t worry, Hajime and Tooru usually took care of them for me,” he reassured the absolutely gorgeous hunk on the other side of the LED display screen. “They’re really protective over me.”

“I’m glad you have people like that in your life. They’re a great couple.”

“They are two total disasters of human beings who on paper, shouldn’t work, but somehow completely pull off the whole being ‘grossly in love’ thing.”

Daichi rolled over on his side then, his handsome face resting against a pillow, his eyes looking sleepy, but his whole expression was content as if he were simply just enjoying Suga’s company. “Isn’t every great love story written by two human disasters who just so happen to fall in love?”

“Leave it to a hopeless romantic to say that,” Suga puffed, though his voice held no real contempt nor venom.

“Who says I’m a hopeless romantic?”

“I did, obviously.”

“And what’s the basis for your accusation?” 

Suga thought a moment before speaking, ensuring his reply came out as genuine as possible because he believed it to be true. In fact, he had spent a great amount of time thinking about it over the course of the weekend, ever since Daichi explained that Tobio’s mother had passed away and that they had been married. “Well,” he started slowly, tongue feeling heavy from the alcohol, weighed down by the words that were to follow, “ I think it takes someone really special and absolutely amazing to lose someone so important to them, but still be hopeful and brave enough to attempt to love again.”

Daichi was quiet a moment, eyes turned away from the camera, his gazed fixed somewhere else in the room, on something that Suga couldn’t see from the way the phone was angled. Suga began to panic - had he overstepped? That was too much, wasn’t it? That was entirely too much. Oh shit, here came the word vomit - “Oh my god, Daichi, please just ignore me. That wasn’t my place, I--”

“Koushi, it’s okay,” Daichi interrupted him, shaking his head. “That’s alright. That’s actually very sweet of you to say.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Suga deflated and pressed the back of his arm to his forehead, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I just had to say that.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He blinked tiredly and Suga felt his heart melt. “I’m glad you shared that with me.”

“Daichi?”

“Yeah?”

“Before you pass out, can I ask you on a date?”

“Only if I can say ‘yes’ so fast that I look overly-eager and entirely uncool and you begin to question if you should have ever agreed to go to that steak restaurant with me in the first place.”

“Deal. Daichi, will you go on a date wi--”

“YES.”

And the pair erupted in laughter, the authentic and unbridled sound felt like a velveteen throw blanket, so comforting and reassuring, a feeling that only came from getting to truly be yourself around someone without fear of how you might look or sound. They weren’t inclined to keep up appearances or pretend to be less interested than they really were for the sake of playing games. They could just  _ be _ , and for someone like Suga, who had seen his fair share of shitty boyfriends and relationships, it was the most amazing feeling in the world.

“Okay good. Because I want you to attend the homecoming game with me. It’ll be real cute - we can share a blanket while sitting on the bleachers and I’ll spike our hot cider and the other parents will notice and get real pissy.”

“Holy shit, that sounds perfect. I love football, I even played in college for a bit.”

“Oh yeah, Tobio told me that, too.”

“He did?” Daichi asked, eyes widening in surprise. “That boy gives away all my secrets.”

“Yeah, and it’s absolutely mandatory that you also bring along life-sized cardboard cutouts of you in football pants.” Sugar couldn't find it in him to care how thirsty he sounded at that very moment.

“Should I just wear the football pants to the game?”

“Daichi!” Suga admonished, clicking his tongue and smiling, “if you do that, you will surely be arrested.”

“On what charge?”

“Umm, how about the fact that it’ll be illegal as  _ fuck _ to look that good in a public place where I can’t do anything about it.”

Daichi laughed again, the warm, soothing sound didn’t seem to stop. “Okay, okay, it’s a date.”

“It’s next Friday.”

“I have to wait until next Friday to see you again?”

“I didn’t say that. Think of something, okay big boy?” He winked, and Daichi clearly blushed furiously at the action.

“I will for sure think of something for us to do in the meant time.”

“Damn straight. Now I better get some sleep, it’s close to midnight.”

Daichi blinked at the camera and squinted, obviously trying to decipher the little numbers in the corner of the screen. “Holy shit, it is. I need to get in the shower.”

Suga groaned, “Daichi, you can’t tell me things like that!”

“Like what?”

He sputtered, flabbergasted, “like, that you’re going to shower!”

“Says the man in a silk bathrobe on facetime!”

“Tough talk for a dude in a compression top!”

He rolled his eyes, but the huge smile never left his face. “Goodnight, Koushi.”

Suga rolled onto his stomach, pressing his fingertips to his lips before blowing a kiss into the camera. “Goodnight, Sawamura.”

\----------

“Suga-chan, this is a DEFCON 7 emergency!” Tooru announced, storming into his office, his panicked expression looking eerily out of place compared to the rest of him. He always gave the appearance of looking ‘put together’, even when he was falling apart. However, that skill seemed not to be working today.

“I think DEFCON works the other way. Like, golf score,” Suga thought aloud, lowering the medication charting log in his hands. It was just after lunch, and he needed to make sure he marked all the administered meds into his students’ files. “And it doesn’t even go to seven. Five is the lowest… or the highest? Whatever.”

“I do  _ not  _ have time for you to lecture me on this, Koushi, I really don’t,” the young principal stated firmly, dramatically collapsing in the chair across from Suga’s desk. The school nurse was  _ this close _ to either removing all the chairs in his office aside from his own or just getting his boss a second desk so they could just share the space - Suga wasn’t sure which would be logistically easier at this point.

“What’s wrong?” Suga asked finally, quirking a gray brow higher on his head. “Is there something wrong with one of the students?”

“No!” he huffed, shaking his head. “It’s that goddamn Ushiwaka-chan!” He flipped his perfect hair in disgust. “I can’t believe he would call me and ask me something so last minute.”

Suga sighed - he should have known. Anything dealing with their superintendent and Tooru was usually not good news. Tooru would always see the man as a sworn enemy and rival, while the older, taller man would see Tooru as a missed opportunity. Wakatoshi Ushijima was older than them by two years, and they all attended the same college together. Wakatoshi had played on Seijo University’s football team, while Tooru was a cheerleader and on the dance line. It was, however, no secret that Tooru could kick a perfect field goal - those dancer’s legs packed a punch, and the beautiful brunette never missed his mark. Wakatoshi had attempted to recruit Tooru over to the team relentlessly, but he simply loved to dance and cheer more than anything, and repeatedly and openly rejected the buff football player. Suga was also suspicious that Wakatoshi had a crush on the former cheerleader, but that wasn’t a thought he dared to voice. Not only would Tooru murder him for suggesting something so vile, but Hajime would also probably try to break Wakatoshi’s legs and well, that just a chain of events nobody needed.

Wakatoshi had always had a hard time living the rejection down, and when he was promoted from principal to superintendent, and Tooru filled his spot - it had been a hard adjustment, to say the least. Wakatoshi came with his many quirks, and paired with his blunt demeanor and business-like approach to all social situations, it made the man difficult to deal with at times. Suga liked the guy well enough, and he was very good at his job, the nurse was just glad he didn’t always have to answer to him, not anymore. He much preferred bringing any issues to Tooru.

“What did he ask you to do?” Suga asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. This was already shaping out to be the most Monday-est Tuesday to ever exist, though he was still riding the high from last night’s overly-flirtatious facetime call.

“He asked me to sub in for the high school cheer and dance coach for the homecoming game!” he practically yelled, leaning back further in the chair.

Suga blinked. “Umm, that sounds like something you’d really like to do?” 

“Ugh, you don’t understand, Suga-chan!” he whined, his already tenor voice reaching a new, exasperated octave. “The game is next Friday and they are a  _ disaster! _ I swear to god, Rachel hasn’t taught them dick for routines and they’re all just a hot mess express.”

“Didn’t she just get put on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy?”

“Yes! That lucky woman gets to have a baby  _ and _ gets to be the cheer coach? Are you kidding me?”

The blonde paused for a moment, letting the realization of his best friend’s rant start to set in. “So are upset that you have to coach or are you upset she gets to go on family leave and you’re jealous?”

“Suga-chan!” Tooru gasped, clutching the front of his maroon sweater. “I don’t even know what you’re insinuating.”

Suga only crossed his arms over his chest and gave a very poignant look - he knew better. “I’m saying that you’re jealous, Tooru. Point blank. You never told me what Hajime said about the adoption thing and now you’re projecting your frustrations out onto others.”

“Koushi! How could you say that?!” Tooru widened his hazel eyes, the gorgeous orbs looking all the larger behind his thick-rimmed glasses. 

Suga sighed and leaned forward. Tooru could dish out the truth to others but often struggled to face his own demons. The young principal liked to parade around, pretending he was made of titanium skin and was unphased by criticisms of any kind, but that wasn’t even remotely true. It was a facade, a mask he wore to please everyone else. Only a few people, Hajime and Suga included, knew the  _ real  _ Tooru. “Listen, Tooru. I’m going to say this one last time as your friend - you need to have a conversation with your fucking husband, or this topic is going to eat you alive.”

“We did talk!” Tooru countered, but Suga gave him a look that said ‘are you kidding me?’, forcing the taller of the two men to immediately alter his statement, “well, we kind of talked.”

“Kind of?”

“Ugh,” Tooru deflated, folding his arms on Suga’s desk and then proceeded to bury his face, a futile attempt to hide his shame and the flush that accompanied his cheeks. “Hajime said sorry for our fight and I said sorry for our fight then he made milk bread french toast and fucked me into the mattress until I saw stars.” 

Part of his response was muffled by the material of his sweater that had bunched at his forearms, but Suga caught it all regardless. “So you both said sorry about your fight but didn’t bother to have an actual conversation regarding one of the most important decisions you could ever make?” Tooru let out a defeated groan, confirming Suga’s statement. The nurse couldn’t stand to see his friends suffer, not really, and he placed an affirming hand on the top of the brunette’s head, carding his fingers through that perfect, fluffy hair as a means of reassurance. “Listen to me, Tooru. You’ve wanted to be a dad for as long as I can remember. And if that’s still something you want, you have to be willing to talk about it.”

Tooru sniffled then, a miserable, pathetic sound. “But what if the only answer is for us to break up? What if that’s the ultimatum it comes down to?”

“Look at me,” Suga commanded, his tone authoritative but still soft. Tooru obeyed, raising his watery, hazel eyes. “Do you really believe that? That you and Hajime can’t work this out?”

“I dunno,” he whispered quietly, voice lacking confidence. “I’m just scared.”

“I know you are. But I also know that you guys are two of the most amazing people I have ever met, and together, you make up a total powerhouse couple. If there’s an obstacle in your way, I know you’ll conquer it. Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?” Tooru asked.

“Because you’re stubborn as fuck, and you won’t give up on Hajime, and he won’t give up on you. You’re gonna talk and sort through it, I know you will.”

“You promise, Suga-chan?” he asked, giving a little muted sob.

“Promise,” Suga parroted, propping his chin up on his free hand. “Now, let’s get started on these dance routines, huh?”

Tooru immediately shot up. “Oh my god, I have so many ideas!”

“Nothing Ariana Grande,” Suga huffed, “and no Tik-Tok routines.”

“Wow,” the principal pouted. “You used to be fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Did you like this chapter? It had a little angst, just a touch, but a lot of feelz and fluff and flirting, which are my three favorite "F" words right behind "free" and "food" - ha!! 
> 
> Thank you, times a million, for all the love and sweet comments and kudos! You guys are truly the best! I feel like we closed the first arc of the story last chapter and now we're progressing toward the 'hopeless volleyball dorks fall in love' arc, so I'm pumped for all the fluffiness and holiday stuff coming up! Ah! I owe you guys after all the angsty BS, don't I?? 
> 
> If you didn't read the one-shot IwaOi because of the smut, no worries! I'll post other side stories there, too, and who knows what couples might pop up? KuroKen? Hmm... ;)
> 
> Real quick, I wanted to give my girl aj--honey a b-day shout out!! Happy birthday, friend! Thanks for letting me spam you with HQ fan art and pictures of my dogs/cats!! Also, Tuesday, my husband and I have been married for two years! :) I finally confessed to him about two weeks ago and told him I write gay HQ/AOT fan fiction and you know how he reacted? He just sighed and went back to sorting his magic cards (he plays Magic the Gathering). I asked if he wanted to hear plot points and he told me, verbatim: "you stay in your nerd corner of shame and I'll stay in mine." Ha!!
> 
> Anyway, leave me a comment and let me know what you thought! Daichi is a walking THIRST TRAP and you can't convince me otherwise!
> 
> Next time: Tobio's POV and homecoming football


	13. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!! I hope you guys are well! You all have left me some sweet comments, and I hope this chapter lives up to the hype!!
> 
> First of all, shoutout to my friends Bbblakeforthewin and madam-president2032 for help with choosing Tooru's dance routine songs, you guys are the best! :) Also, thank you to my friends umicrunch and aj-honey for talking through parts of this with me and just for being all-around awesome people. You all are so wonderful!!
> 
> Anyway, as always, see you at the bottom for more of my rambling.

Agreeing to come to the homecoming football game with his gorgeous, ashen-haired boyfriend(?) (there was still a question mark stuck in that - they were  _ something _ , sure. But boyfriends? TBD.) was one thing. But picking him up from his apartment, driving to the game with him, and holding his hand across the gear shift with Tobio in the backseat - well, that was damn near enough to make his brain fry. 

This was going to be the first time that Tobio saw them together. Like, together  _ together.  _ On Sunday, the three had all gone out to lunch at a restaurant, followed by a playdate at the local park, but Suga and Daichi kept their physical contact to a minimum. They wanted to normalize Tobio seeing Suga outside of school, though that already seemed to be second nature - if it was at all confusing that their school nurse spent so much time with them in normal, day to day settings, the little boy never commented about it. Nurse Suga was in their life now, and Tobio seemed completely unbothered. In fact, he welcomed the ashen blonde with open arms every time - the night Suga came over with soup, their outing at IHOP, their lunch/park date the weekend before, and now, the football game.

Daichi was known to hold Kuroo’s hand every now and then, especially in platonic cuddles and especially when a particular little dark-haired six-year-old was with them (to make a family hand-holding chain, according to Tobio), but Daichi didn’t know how to explain it if he inquired about him and Suga displaying affection. It certainly wasn’t something he planned on hiding forever, in fact, he hoped to disclose the nature of their relationship to his son very soon. It was simply that everything was so very new, and Daichi hadn’t dated anyone as long as Tobio had been alive. He was hoping to warm Tobio up to the idea of having Suga in their life before he explained anything else.

“Daddy, are you excited to watch the football game?” the little boy asked from his position in the back seat. He had his stuffed fish in his arm, unwilling to let it go since Kuroo left to get on a plane. He fell asleep with it each night, and always had to take it with him in the car. Daichi took so many pictures of Tobio cuddling the thing and texted them all to his best friend, which always earned him back something along the lines of: ‘oh my god, I just want to quit my job and move there to be with you guys.’

While probably not the most feasible of ideas, Daichi couldn’t find it in him to even begin to protest. He missed Kuroo more than he could ever say, now that the bed-head had returned to California. The black-haired man had left a giant, 6’2” shaped hole in his heart, and their big house seemed emptier now that Kuroo wasn’t around to occupy it. 

“I am, buddy! How about you?” Daichi asked, raising his gaze to catch his son’s cobalt one in the rear-view mirror. He had one hand fixed to the steering wheel, and the other curled around Suga’s.

“Yes! I haven’t seen a football game since I went with Uncle ‘Roo.” Last year, Kuroo had taken Tobio to a San Diego Chargers game as part of their annual ‘Uncle ‘Roo and Tobes Special Weekend’ and his son fell in love with the sport. Kuroo, the absolute monster of an uncle he was, spoiled the little boy with seats at the 50-yard line and bought him a bag of cotton candy the size of his body, which was small, as far bodies went, but large, in terms of bags of cotton candy. 

“My friend Peter is the quarterback,” Suga explained, turning around a little in the passenger seat to smile at the brunette child. “He’s really talented. They say he’s gonna get a scholarship to play at college next year.”

Tobio nodded his head, interested but clearly unimpressed. “The quarterback is kind of cool, but daddy was a tight end, and that’s way cooler.”

Daichi felt his neck flush from the look Suga flashed his direction: it was mischievous and shit-eating and way too damn adorable. “A tight end, you say?” His voice oozed like honey, though it was clearly soured by something teasing and just a bit naughty. “That’s my favorite position, too.”

Daichi was quick to cough, the very tips of ears now burning. Oh shit, this was not good. Suga could not make comments like that and expect him to keep his composure.

“Did you play football, too, Nurse Suga?” 

Suga laughed and removed his lecherous gaze from Daichi, clearly proud of his handiwork in making the driver a floundering mess. “Actually, I didn’t little man. Though I did track and cross country, but I enjoyed choir and theater as well.”

Tobio’s blue eyes grew the size of saucers. “You can sing?!” he asked excitedly. 

“I can, actually!” 

“That’s so cool,” Tobio commented with genuine wonderment. “I want to hear it sometime.” He scrunched his nose then, clearly disgusted as the next words came out of his mouth, “Daddy can’t sing at all.”

The joyous fit of giggles rose from the nurse made his embarrassment very much worth it, Daichi only able to keep a side-eye on the shorter man as the corners of his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “He can’t, huh?” He let out a playful sigh, “I guess we all can’t be good at everything.”

Tobio offered a disapproving puff of air. “No kidding.”

“Oh wow, look, we’re here,” the young dad stated, trying his best to not sound as relieved as he actually was. They had just pulled up to the football stadium and the sight of it immediately filled him with unrelenting nostalgia. He felt transported back in time as he pulled into the lot, the wide smile unable to leave his face. Football had been the cornerstone of his youth, the vessel that carried all of his blood, sweat, and tears, a place he found validation where he couldn’t before. The sport was the first true love of his life.

“Daaaaad,” drawled the little boy patiently waiting with his hands on the door, his seatbelt freshly undone. “Let’s go! Shouyou said he’s gonna be here, too, and he’s gonna bring Animal Crossing!”

Suga pulled his hand away, much to Daichi’s displeasure, untangling their adroit fingers. The brunette tried not to fuss or make a low moan as his hand was freed, but it was involuntary. Though if Suga caught it, he was gracious enough to ignore it. 

When everyone had exited the car, Daichi reached out to take his son’s hand instead. Tobio did what he always did when he held hands with an adult: he curled his tiny fingers around Daichi’s pinky. In his other arm, he kept the stuffed fish tucked beneath his armpit. 

“We pay at the gate just up here,” Suga explained as they strolled down the sidewalk. The mid-September evening was nice, but it would be quite cool once the sun set. Fall clothes suited Suga, in Daichi’s completely unbiased opinion. He was wearing black skinny jeans with white sneakers, pristine and so fresh looking. On top, he wore a light gray v-neck shirt layered with a salmon and white checkered flannel. It was trendy, cute, angelic, fashionable, and even, somehow, downright sexy. How was he able to pull off any outfit and transform it into something new, something completely elevated?

“Did you bring a jacket?” Daichi inquired, realizing he was staring too long, though also concerned that it would be too cold for the young nurse once the game started. Plus, sitting on metal bleachers tended to get uncomfortable, especially in cooler temperatures. He was wearing jeans and a black NorthFace zip-up and Tobio was dressed much the same. 

“Nope, I guess I didn’t. I suppose I’ll have to find another way to keep warm.” He answered the question with a sly grin and a flirtatious wink and there went Daichi’s last brain cell. 

At the gate, two high school-aged girls took their money and stamped their hands for admittance. “Oh my God, your fish is SO cute!” one of them gushed, a blonde girl with pretty braids. She smiled down at Tobio who instinctively hid his face behind the plush toy, his cheeks burning red. 

“Sorry, he’s a bit shy,” Daichi explained as the pressure on his pinky increased, Tobio’s grip crushing his finger like a vice.

“That’s okay,” the girl smiled and waved her hand dismissively. “Have fun at the game!”

Daichi and Suga thanked the young ladies and made their way toward the bleachers. The stadium lights loomed overhead, buzzing and humming as they shined down on the field that was surrounded by an oval, burnt orange running track. The sun was sinking lower toward the horizon, the pinks and purples touching the near-cloudless sky. Daichi took a deep breath and let the crisp air fill his lungs, a wave of nostalgia rolling through him. God, he loved football.

“Let’s head that way,” Suga pointed to the midsection of the bleachers. “We can get a good view of the game without being too close to the student section.” Daichi eyed Suga with a cocked brow and then the blonde motioned toward Tobio. “They can get kind of noisy, and I figure this way, it wouldn't be so loud.”

Daichi’s heart swelled at how much Suga took his son’s feelings and needs into consideration. Tobio was talkative with those he knew, but around strangers or too much noise, it could prove to be difficult. Kuroo had explained that when they went to the Chargers game, Tobio was a little overwhelmed at first, but quickly felt more at ease once the game started and it served as a nice distraction - the cotton candy helped, too. Probably.

“Sounds like a plan,” Daichi said, steering Tobio up the bleachers. The black-haired boy turned and looked out the field, his cobalt eyes wide. Both teams were on their respective sidelines, doing warm-ups and lunges, stretching their legs with the help of the managers. A tall, broad man stood on the sidelines, his purple-ish polo tucked into black running pants, a clipboard in hand. Next to him stood what appeared to be an assistant, his wild red hair standing straight up on his head.

“That your coach?” Daichi asked as the three sat down - Tobio in between them of course - gesturing toward their sideline. 

Suga followed Daichi’s finger to where he pointed and Suga gave a half-smile, accompanied by an exasperated sigh. “That’s him, that’s Coach Ushijima.”

“That’s who you were talking about with Peter, right?” 

Suga nodded. “Yep, that’s the one. He’s also our superintendent. His name is Wakatoshi Ushijima, and he never goes far without his assistant coach, Satori.”

“Hey wait,” Daich said, thinking a moment. “You know, I realize I played over on the west coast, but I think I know him. Or well, knew  _ of  _ him. He played for Seijo University, right?” 

Suga nodded. “That’s the one.”

Daichi smiled and his tone took on a wistful quality. “Yeah, I remember now. He was a few years older than me- they called him ‘Miracle Boy’ and everyone was pissy when he turned down the NFL draft and went ahead and graduated. I can’t believe he’s the superintendent here!”

“I went to Seijo, too, ya know,” Suga commented. 

“Yeah?”

“Yup. And that guy down there was the captain of the cheer squad at Seijo.” Suga tilted his head to where Tooru stood, long arms held up in a wide ‘V’ shape, demonstrating something to the cheerleaders around him. The team was made up of a combination of both girls and boys, cheer uniforms crisp and clean, colored a plum maroon with white and black pinstripes. 

“That’s impressive,” Daichi acknowledged. 

“Don’t tell Tooru that,” came a third, yet familiar voice, the trio turning to see who addressed them. Hajime smiled down at his friends, dressed in black jeans, a white waffle henley, and a denim jacket. “He doesn’t need anything else going to his head.”

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Suga greeted with that beautiful smile on his face, patting the spot next to him. Hajime nodded before lowering himself to the stadium bleachers.

“Well, Tooru wouldn’t stop his bellyaching about the routine so I figured I’d better come to see it… you know, since he’s been working so hard and everything.”

“Are those cheer outfits new?” Suga asked with a knowing smirk.

The gruff brunette clicked his tongue and turned his head away. “Who knows,” he huffed.

Suga narrowed his eyes, clearly unwilling to let the subject go. “Hajime, did you have XLT Financial donate money again just so Tooru could upgrade their uniforms?”

Hajime opened his mouth to protest, but his defense died in his throat when he saw Suga pointing to the banner hanging below the scoreboard that read: ‘ _ XLT Financial is a proud sponsor of the Moreland West High White Eagles! Cheer loud and cheer proud!’  _ Clearly embarrassed, he rose to his feet again. “I’m gonna go get a Coke,” he said as he sauntered away, Suga left in a fit of giggles.

“It’s almost gross how much they love each other,” the blonde chuckled, his honey gaze sweeping to fall over Daichi. 

“Daddy, look, there’s Shouyou!” Tobio interrupted, saving Daichi from almost admitting ‘I hope we’re that gross someday’. Instead, the young dad turned to where Tobio was gesturing, a shock of orange hair poking out in every direction, the little ball of sunshine clinging to his mom’s hand. 

“Do you want us all to sit together?” Daichi asked his son. He was so relieved to see Tobio excited to see one of his friends- or the fact that he had friends at all. The shy boy had trouble starting new relationships, but once he was comfortable, he flourished. While their first sleepover ended early, Daichi was comforted to find out that it hadn’t affected the two boys’ friendship at all. Tobio came home and chatted about his friend Shouyou, even if he was, quote, “kind of annoying sometimes.” 

“No, daddy. Not right now. Can I just go say hi though?” Tobio asked. “Shouyou said he was bringing his Switch and I wanna see his island.”

Daichi wasn’t sure what all those words meant, but he nodded anyway. “Sure, buddy, just stay where I can see you and leave your fish here.”

“Sure, dad!” the boy exclaimed, rising to his feet and pattering down the aluminum bleachers. Daichi was glad when he realized that Shouyou and his mom were seated in the same section only about eight rows down. The ginger boy was easy to spot in a crowd, which made it easier to keep tabs on Tobio.

“They have a lot of fun at school,” Suga piped up, leaning so his elbow was propped on his knee and his palm was against his cheek. “Tobio tells me that Shouyou is kind of annoying, but also that he’s really nice.”

This caused the young dad to laugh. “He tells me that, too.”

“Shouyou moves around a lot because his dad is in the military, but it seems like they’re gonna be stationed here for the next few years,” the blonde explained. “They just moved here, too. So I think they are both excited to have a friend.”

As if on cue, Tobio turned around and waved up at his dad, prompting Shouyou’s mom to turn and wave, too. She offered up a friendly, bright smile so similar to her son’s - brilliant and blinding, holding every bit of warmth as the sun. The ginger boy waved, too, taking just a moment to pop his head up from behind a gaming device.

“I am glad they have each other,” the brunette stated, his chest feeling suddenly very full. Moving was one of the most difficult decisions he had ever made: away from his hometown, from Kuroo, from his parents. He spent countless sleepless nights leading up to the move concerned that he was uprooting his son, setting him up for failure. Kids valued routine, but especially Tobio. He liked things a certain way - he was similar to Daichi in that regard. Yui was the carefree spirit who loved with her whole heart and laughed with her whole stomach. Daichi always felt inadequate next to her, like he wasn’t quite as spirited and animated. 

Suga reminded him of Yui a lot, at least in that sense. He was funny, witty, quick to tease and that beautiful smile rarely left his face. Maybe he was an angel that Yui sent down from somewhere in the heavens, someone special that could soothe his aching and weary heart, a companion he could really connect with. 

“Oh look, there’s Tooru and the squad!” Suga exclaimed, latching onto Daichi’s bicep with a firm squeeze of excitement. Daichi suddenly wished that Suga got this excited more often.

“The kids are gonna cheer on the players as they’re announced,” Hajime added, reappearing from the opposite side of the bleachers. He had a bottle of Coke in his hands, as well as a hot dog. Daichi was also pretty sure he saw a bag of Reese's Pieces poking out of the pocket of his denim jacket, but chose not to comment. The stadium was getting quite crowded now, and Daichi instinctively glanced down toward where his son was seated, his little head practically conjoined to Shouyou’s as they stared down at the Switch’s screen. 

“Tooru looks good!” Suga said with a blinding smile as Hajime found his seat once more. Tooru was dressed in black track pants and a maroon sweatshirt, the name ‘Coach Iwaizumi’ plastered across his slender shoulders. It was obvious to read now that his back was facing the crowd. “Did you buy him a custom cheer coach sweatshirt?”

Hajime sighed, long and rough, as was his custom, before taking a quick sip of his soda. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“He knows it's temporary, right?” Suga teased. “It’s literally only for the rest of the season.”

“I honestly don’t know what he thinks,” Hajime admitted, watching as the cheerleaders lined up, maroon and silver pom-poms in hand. Above them, the announcer was going on about tonight’s sponsors, thanking the booster club, and something about a football booster t-shirt sale at halftime. “He hasn’t been home before 10 o’clock every night this week. He comes in, eats the leftovers in the fridge, showers, and then passes out.”

Suga reached over and wrapped an arm around Hajime’s center, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Did you miss him this week?” he asked earnestly, no sarcasm in his tone at all. 

The tanned man’s cheeks burned red at that comment, but he likely knew he couldn’t deny it. Suga was good at reading people, and it was like he saw straight through their souls. “It’s just temporary, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hajime admonished with a click of his tongue.

“I think he’s going to try to polish Eita into the best cheer coach,” Suga added, removing his arm from around Hajime only to wrap the opposite one around Daichi. The young dad breathed in the sweet scent of citrus and wildflowers - it was something about Koushi that always captured him. 

“The tall guy who’s your twin?” joked Hajime, earning him a quick jab in the side, almost causing him to drop his hot dog. 

“Watch it, Hajime.” Honey brown eyes narrowed to a near-frightening point as he stuck out his pink tongue. “I’m better looking than him, anyway. He’s just taller is all.”

“I don’t know who this dude is, but I will agree that Suga is better looking,” was all Daichi could think to add from his spot beside the blonde. The nurse blushed, increasing his hold around Daichi. 

Daichi was sure he was going to faint. 

“Such a gentleman,” Suga swooned, batting those damn intoxicating pewter lashes.

The announcements continued, and soon, teams were lining up for kick-off. From their position on the track, Tooru had his team performing a synchronized cheer, paired with high kicks and shaking pom-poms. Around them, the crowd seemed to pick up, people filling in the remaining spots on the bleachers. The student section was to the left, clapping along with the chants from Tooru’s squad. With Suga’s arm around his midsection and a smile plastered on his face, it was hard to feel anything but sheer joy. Football, a chilly night, a gorgeous date, a happy son hanging out with his very first friend - what more could a guy ask for?

///

“So you just collect apples?”

Shouyou shook his head. “I mean, at first,” he explained, moving the little person around on the screen. There was something about a raccoon? And he had to bring him stuff? Tobio wasn’t really sure, but it looked fun. 

“Shouyou, sweetheart, make sure you share,” his friend’s mom explained. Around them, people started cheering, and Tobio glanced up quickly enough to catch sight of the football soaring through the air and into another player’s arms. 

“Mom it’s not really a  _ sharing _ game,” the ginger tried to explain, but his mom wasn’t having it.

“ _ Shouyou _ …” she started using that same voice that Tobio recognized - his dad used that same tone often. Mrs. Hinata meant business.

“Okay, sorry,” Shouyou said, deflating a little, handing over the device.

“Oh,” Tobio told him, shaking his head, “that’s okay, I can just watch.”

“I tell you what, why don’t we put it down and watch the football game for a bit, hmm?” the red-headed mom suggested, stealing the Switch from her son’s little hands. “Look, it just started.”

Shouyou raised his head for the first time since sitting together, burnt orange eyes shining under the big stadium lights. His nose was already turning a little red from the cold air, his cheeks tinged pink as well. “But mom--” he started to protest, but his mother shot him a look that said otherwise.

His best friend turned toward him, smiling, clearly quick to bounce back. “See number 11 out there?” the ginger asked. The high schooler in question was standing on the sideline, helmet in hand, looking ready to jump in at any moment. 

“Yeah?” Tobio replied. “He’s tall.”

“That’s my neighbor, Kei. He’s really good! His mommy is sitting next to my mommy.” Tobio leaned forward a little bit to see Shouyou’s mom talking to a blonde-haired lady with glasses. “I want to be just like Kei! He’s so good. He’s only a freshman but he plays on the varsity team.”

“What’s varsity?” Tobio asked.

“I dunno, it just means you’re the best.” He shrugged and then smiled again. His front tooth was chipped from where he fell on the playground the other day, but Shouyou said it was just ‘baby teeth’ so it didn’t matter. “And I wanna be the best just like him.”

Tobio turned back to look up at his dad, hoping to meet his eye. But his dad was turned toward Nurse Suga, a wide smile on his face, one he only seemed to wear when his school nurse was around. Did his dad like Nurse Suga? He wondered. Maybe like  _ liked _ him, kind of how he once liked mommy? How gramma liked grandpa? How married people liked each other on TV? 

Tobio thought that Nurse Suga was really pretty and really kind. He was always laughing and smiling, and he always took the time to talk to Tobio, like really listen. It didn’t matter if it was about polar bears, or San Fransico, or even that time he told Suga about mommy and the rock she left behind - Suga was there. He also made good soup and liked the same movies. Dad and Nurse Suga held hands, but so did Dad and Uncle 'Roo. So did that mean anything? Was daddy thinking about marrying Suga? That’s what adults did, right? Married the people they like liked? Unsure, Tobio made a note to ask about it later. Right now, he wanted to catch one of the plastic footballs the cheerleaders were throwing out and spend more time with his friend Shouyou.

///

“Wow, Ushiwaka-chan, you’re really giving those boys a beating,” Tooru commented out the side of his mouth, standing next to the wide-shouldered coach whose golden eyes were turned toward the field. A few yards down stood his assistant, Satori, was having a very serious-sounding conversation with one of the players, pen tapping wildly on his clipboard as he wrote out what appeared to be a play of some sort.

“We need to widen the gap,” Wakatoshi all but grunted. Sure, they were 14 points ahead - two touchdowns and two field goals, and the clock was rapidly encroaching toward halftime. But Tooru knew Wakatoshi well enough to know that he didn’t count any chickens before they were hatched, and he didn’t get ahead of himself. He taught his players to keep fighting until the final buzzer from the scoreboard - no exceptions. The team had their sights set on winning the state championship and that’s what they were going to do. They had lost last year at sub-state, and Wakatoshi wasn’t going to repeat any mistakes.

“How’s your kicker?” Tooru asked, turning back toward the track to see Eita guiding the team through the next cheer. Eita was a pain in the ass, in Tooru’s humble opinion, but he was quite good. Tooru was a better dancer than a cheerleader, and Eita was the inverse: they made a well-balanced coaching pair. 

But the man was still a pain in the ass.

“He would be better if you were our special teams coach,” the tall superintendent said, never once peeling his eyes from the field. He hadn’t turned to face Tooru the whole time, as was to be expected. The man was in his zone, and he was clearly calculating his next move. The Eagles were on offense, and the quarterback, Peter, looked up toward Wakatoshi, holding up three fingers. The Coach nodded -  _ ah _ , Tooru thought,  _ he just confirmed which route to run _ . 

Peter yelled, then called for the hike. He dropped back while the offensive line moved forward. A quick player took off down the far sideline, completely open. Tooru watched in amazement as the ball soared through the air, leaving Peter’s hand in a perfect spiral. The football landed in the other player’s arm, and that’s when the full brunt of his speed came in. The wide receiver took off, long legs carrying him toward the end zone, the visiting team’s defense unable to catch him. With that, he scored, and from behind them, the crowd roared. They would have just enough time to kick again before the half.

“Sorry, Ushiwaka-chan,” Tooru said with zero sincerity, “I have a dance to show off.” 

Wakatoshi smirked as his kicker sent the ball straight through the uprights. “You always looked good in a dance uniform, Tooru.”

Tooru puffed his chest and rolled his eyes. “Oh bite me, Wakatoshi,” he scowled. “I’m a happily married man.”

“I know,” he deadpanned. “I have moved on.” With that comment, the stoic coach flicked his golden eyes back toward the track, attention fixed solely on Eita Semi, who was herding the squad to prepare for the dance. The cheer assistant’s gray eyes were focused and he held his mouth in a concentrated pinch, clearly engrossed in what one of the female cheerleaders was explaining.

And then, as if he felt the two sets of eyes on him, Eita lifted his gaze. He caught Wakatoshi’s stare, and his features softened while a blush brushed his cheekbones before he turned away, facing his back toward the field.  _ Interesting _ , thought Tooru, cogs turning a million miles an hour in his head.  _ Ushiwaka-chan has the hots for Semi-chan. _ He could practically hear Hajime telling him to quit his meddling, but when had that ever stopped him before?

“Go give ‘em an inspiring speech, Ushiwaka-chan,” Tooru called over his shoulder, making his way back toward the track, a mischievous fire burning in his heart. Eita Semi and Wakatoshi Ushijima, hmm? Interesting indeed.

///

“Oh look, they’re lining up, dad!” Tobio pointed down toward the field where the dancers were taking to the astroturf like they would a stage. His son had moved back up beside them, lured upward by the promise of nachos and a blue Powerade, the cobalt liquid staining the six-year-old’s lips. The air was a little chillier now, and Tobio had nestled into his left side, Suga and Hajime to his right. 

“Do you know what song he chose?” Suga inquired, turning to look at the coach’s husband. Hajime clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Nah,” he replied. “I swear, you would think he was harboring the launch codes or something, he kept it so secretive.”

“I told him no Ariana Grande,” the blonde replied, honey eyes fixated forward. 

“Ten bucks that he choreographed Ariana Grande just to spite us,” Hajime stated.

“Who is Ariana Grande?” Daichi inquired, though he suddenly felt incredibly stupid, as not only did Suga and Hajime give him a crazed look, but even Tobio’s face showed that he was completely unimpressed by his father’s question. “What?” he asked sheepishly.

“I forget you only listen to the Eagles and Journey,” the blonde criticized, though his words lacked any real heat or concern. 

“Not  _ only _ ,” the diffidence in his voice quite evident. “I just don’t keep up with celebrities.”

Tobio rolled his eyes. “She’s a singer, daddy.”

“Okay, so why don’t we like her?” This was utterly confusing. Sure, all pop music sucked to Daichi, but Suga said he listened to pop. So what was the deal with this gal?

“It’s not that we don’t like  _ her _ as a person or something,” Hajime explained, green eyes almost looking… tortured? “Is that’s Tooru went through an Ariana phase and it was all he listened to.”

“EVER!” Suga added, shaking his head. “I swear to god, Seven Rings was his anthem for  _ months _ . I thought my ears would bleed. It was even his ringtone.”

“It was hell.” And if the faraway look on his face was any sort of evidence, Daichi felt inclined to believe him. 

Down below, all the dancers were in the place, stair-stepped into three even rows, when over the PA started a familiar tune - it was upbeat, with fast violins. Yes, Daichi  _ definitely  _ knew this song. “Is this… Britney Spears?” he asked as the tempo caught pace.

“Toxic! Classic!” Suga cheered, clapping his hands as the first row executed a perfectly timed set of high kicks while the middle rows and back rows performed pirouettes and corresponding spins. The crowd was loving it, clearly blown away by the sheer athleticism that was being displayed. 

“Daddy, those dancers are amazing,” Tobio whispered, words barely audible above the music. His blue eyes were wide, taking it all in - every spin, every leap, every turn, Tobio caught sight of it all. 

_ Maybe he would like to try dance?  _ Daichi thought, and the possibility warmed him. Art, football, dance - Tobio could do whatever he wanted, and as long as he was happy, Daichi would be happy and support him.

At that moment, the tempo dropped, fading out of ‘Toxic’, clearly transitioning to a new song, causing the dancers to switch formation. In front of them, Tooru and the assistant coach stood side by side, left feet forward, arms held in a downward ‘V’ as a demonstration, coaching the athletes on what was next. When the music picked back up, Hajime and Suga let out vicious groans, burying their faces into their hands, synchronized, just like the routine below them.

“He fucking did it,” Hajime whispered. “No way.”

“He did,” Suga stated, horrified. “He did the unthinkable.”

“He mashed ‘Toxic’ and ‘Seven Rings’, that bastard!” He was equal parts horrified and impressed. 

“Why does it sound good though?” Suga groaned, exasperatedly carding his fingers through his gray locks. “Oh my god, it sounds so cool.”

“Look how good they look, too.” This time, the CFO sounded quite smitten and overwhelmingly proud of his husband, despite how grumpy he was about the song choice. It was clear that Hajime loved Tooru despite any flaws or how annoyed he acted in regard to the tall brunette’s shenanigans. 

“I take it this is Ariana Grande?” Daichi confirmed, turning his head to eye his two friends. Beside him, Tobio bobbed his head to the music, attention still wholly consumed by the routine happening on the field.

“It is,” Suga sighed defeatedly. “It sure is.”

Finally, the song transitioned one more time, and Suga’s face lit up with realization. “Oh my god, he didn’t!”

“He did.” Hajime was back to trying to give his best poker face, but Daichi saw through the facade - the corner of his mouth was pulled up in the smallest, approving smirk.

“Hey, I know this one, too,” Daichi said with a laugh, fond memories filling up his brain from when the girls in high school used to mime the song to him at school dances or during their cheer routines at football games. 

“‘ _ Hey Daichi, you’re so fine you really blow my mind, hey Daichi! _ ” Suga sang along, changing the name from ‘Mickey’ to ‘Daichi’, clearly amused. On the field, the dancers turned and pointed to a partner, shaking their silver and maroon pom-poms with large smiles plastered on their faces. 

“Oh fuck,” Hajime whispered under his breath, bringing his hand up to hide his face.

Suga glanced the spiky brunette up and down. “What is it?” 

“Tooru is literally pointing up here,” he grumbled, embarrassment burning his chest and reddening his tanned face. “I can see him mouthing ‘Iwa’ instead of Mickey.”

At that moment, Tooru executed a final kick along with the choreography, effortlessly falling into a perfect split on the field, synchronized with the members of the team. Daichi’s boss audibly groaned, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I’m so screwed.” He laughed low under his breath, the stadium resounding with cheers and clapping as the ensemble song came to an end. “I am so gay.”

“Aren’t we all?” the blonde nurse laughed in turn.

Daichi shrugged and smiled, leaning to wrap his arm around the nurse’s waist. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

///

After halftime, the game went by quickly. The opposing team lost, never once gaining the lead. Suga knew it would be that way - their superintendent was an insistent man and completely unrelenting, so it came as no surprise. Tooru’s routine was flawless and was talked about just as much as the game itself, which filled the blonde with pride for his best friend. Tooru was intelligent and graceful and had a heart for dance and cheer - he was as magnificent out there as he had ever been. 

The trio began the slow walk to the car, Tobio wrapped in Daichi’s arms, fast asleep, while Suga was wrapped in Daichi’s zip jacket - yes, okay, it had gotten a  _ little _ colder than he had originally planned and okay, yes, he did end up in Daichi’s jacket, which was end game, obviously, but he didn’t know the young dad had worn only a t-shirt underneath. “It takes a lot for me to be cold,” the brunette had insisted, taking off the black zip-up and handing it over. It gave Suga a brilliant view of those incredible biceps, so he couldn’t find himself to feel  _ too _ guilty, but still. For the second time in a row, Suga had ended up in the hot brunette’s coat. It smelled wonderful- musky, woody, earthy, so rich, and masculine. It was intoxicating how it was the perfect mixture of his cologne and whatever natural smell that was just completely  _ Daichi. _

The plan was to drop Suga back off at his house before Daichi returned home, though Suga was hoping they could call an audible (keeping with the football theme of the night.) But Suga was afraid to initiate, yet again, because he was terrified he was coming on too strong. He didn’t want to look desperate or over-eager, though, in reality, he kind of was. But most importantly, he didn’t want to push Daichi. The brunette needed to take things slow, and that was okay. 

Suga took in a deep breath as the young dad buckled the still sleeping Tobio and his stuffed fish in the backseat and looked up at the nurse with a shy, demure expression on his face, chocolate eyes bashful and innocent, but still brimmed with something more. What? What was it exactly?

“Ummm, Suga,” he started, clearing his throat self-consciously. Tobio was safely in the backseat, the door shut, and Daichi had his elbow resting on the roof of the car, one hand on the driver’s handle.

“What is it, Daichi?” Suga asked, keeping that flirtatious lilt, though doing his damndest to hide any excitement. He hoped he knew what question was coming next.

“Would you, uh, want to come over?” the brunette asked, voice a little shaky. “Maybe for a glass of wine or something?”

There it was - the invitation that Suga had secretly been praying for since the night began. “Well, Daichi, one would think you’re trying to monopolize my Friday evening.”

“I think I want to monopolize a lot of your Friday evenings.”

_ You smooth son of a bitch. _

Magenta tinged his cheeks and suddenly, he felt warm all over, and not just because of the fleece jacket. “I think I would like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So was that fun? Because I hope you all thought it was fun. I had fun writing it!
> 
> A couple of notes - if UshiOi can't be together, Ushi gets Semi because they're both super fine. And I will stand by that. Are we gonna have an UshiSemi side fic out of this?? Who knows, maybe. If you guys like it enough, it just might happen. Also, I know Tobio's POV wasn't very long, but it was super hard writing from a kid's perspective. I will have more from his as the story progresses, I promise! 
> 
> Thank you, AS ALWAYS, for all of your sweet words and kudos and bookmarks. I am still absolutely floored that this has 650 some kudos?? Like, for real?? That is amazing.
> 
> One more personal note I want to add about this story is this - it is never my intention to offend, exclude, or anything along those lines. I grew up in the Midwest, live in the Midwest. Writing about Daichi losing Yui is how I cope with losing my mom. Tooru and Hajime's fights and banter? This is basically a case study of my own marriage. Kuroo and Daichi's BFF-ness is a compilation of the best friends that I have had in my own life and my meaningful interactions with them. Football, cheer, down to the foods they eat and the cars they drive, etc. This is all just a mish-mash of my own experiences. If they don't directly reflect your experiences, I promise it's not my intention to offend you. I just hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> Next time: You asked, and I listened - An Abridged History of Koushi Sugawara
> 
> Be well, mask up, wash your hands, tell someone they're lovely, and have a beautiful October night!!


	14. An Abridged History of Koushi Sugawara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!! I hope you guys are doing great because you're about to ride the angst train. Are you ready? I have a few serious notes I want to say as well as some trigger warnings about this chapter, so stay tuned if you think these might apply to you.
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** I am a cis-gender woman. I cannot speak personally to the trials and tribulations of any LGBTQ+ individuals. The topics that Suga (and Oikawa) go thru in this chapter are a culmination of experiences of my friends and family, coupled with things I have seen as a college student as well as a college instructor/advisor. However, I can tell you a lot of Gavin's behaviors I have lived thru. (not with my husband, he is a saint). 
> 
> **TRIGGER / CONTENT WARNINGS:** abusive relationships, domestic violence, manipulation, homosexual slurs, degrading language, misrepresentation of BDSM, violence (fist-fighting), very brief reference to child sexual assault, mentions of juvie / lock up - please be advised going into this chapter!!

Mistakes can come in many forms - Koushi knew that. Sometimes, they looked like failed pharmacology tests because he didn’t bother to show up to his study group (that was pretty rare though). Other times, they looked like hangovers and blistering headaches and long walks of shame from a random hookup (not so rare). And every once in a blue moon, they looked like negative bank account balances from overdraft when he had spent too much money on alcohol and midnight McDonald’s.

That was part of being in college and in your very early twenties - making mistakes, learning, moving forward, picking yourself back up, leaning on your best friend when you needed it - Koushi could handle that part. These mistakes were stupid, yeah, and he knew better. But he kept the big stuff in check - he always aced his retests and kept his GPA up, was never late to his part-time job, and always wore a condom, no matter how rushed or heated things seemed.

It was all about balance, which was, decidedly, tough at first. Getting ‘exceptionally hot and totally bangable’ (Tooru’s words) was not in his original plan for college. He had mapped it all out: he was going to stick to the honors dorm, work his ass off, graduate with a super-high GPA and land a job at a big hospital and save lives in the ER. Simple, to the point, effective.

However, he should have known that plan would be completely blown out of the water from day one.

Or, well, more like day two.

“Koushi, you won’t know until you go out there!”

The gray-haired nursing major narrowed his eyes at his best friend. This was only their second day at college and they had exactly four more years to go. Currently, Tooru was trying to get him to leave the peace and comfort of the said honors dorm and go out to a party hosted by one of the senior cheer squad members. “Tooru, look--” he started, but his brunette roommate cut him off.

“No way, Suga-chan,” the taller man protested, holding up a silencing hand. “You are not sitting in this tiny ass box of a room and doing nothing! We’re in college now! This is supposed to be fun.”

Rooming with Tooru seemed like a no-brainer at the time when they decided to go to college together. Even though Tooru was an athlete and on a cheer scholarship, he also had an impressive GPA, just like Suga, so they were both eligible for the honors dorm. While Tooru was out and had been since high school, Suga was not. And by rooming together, he was guaranteed the safety of living with the only person on the planet who knew that he didn’t like girls, which was reassuring. Getting a male roommate who was a homophobe or something along those lines was nerve-wracking for them both and this solved the issue.

However, one thing Suga failed to think through was the fact that Tooru would _meddle_. He was good at it, had always been good at it, and would likely never change. So it was of no surprise that Tooru was trying to get him out of his shell and to meet new people.

“Fine,” Suga huffed, closing his laptop lid (which already had Nextlix queued up and ready to go), “but if I hate it I get to bail.”

Tooru clasped his hands together and plastered on a shit-eating grin. “Deal! But my crystal ball says you won’t hate it.”

This became a pattern: Tooru leading the way and Suga following, though it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Suga wasn’t shy, per se, he was actually very fun and outgoing. He was just a bit self-conscious and lacked confidence. Though apparently, those around him never understood why. Tooru would never fail to tell him that he was beautiful, insisting that he had a great smile and a lovely singing voice, as well as a fit runner’s physique. And that was just the exterior! The brunette would rave on and on about his personality, how he was funny and kind and selfless. Suga didn’t see it, but he smiled through it all anyway. Maybe Tooru could believe it enough for the both of them.

It worked, a little bit, and Suga found his rhythm, his style, what he liked, and what he didn’t. From there, college became an adventure. It didn’t always include alcohol or boys, but it did involve experiences and meeting other people. Tooru was popular - he was on the cheer team and was exceptionally good looking. He always made friends quickly, and despite him being openly gay, was still wildly popular among the girls on the squad (and everywhere else, really. Seriously, he was a chick magnet and basically had a girl army at his beck and call).

After their freshman year came to a close, Tooru and Suga opted to get an apartment together. It wasn’t a very big place, a two-bedroom, one-bath located about five blocks from campus, but it meant they could move out of the cramped and stuffy dorms if they wanted to, so they jumped on the opportunity. It was more expensive, sure, and they had to increase their hours at their jobs to make rent, but it was fun. 

A lot of fun.

At times, maybe _too_ much fun.

“Let’s host a party!” came the famous last words out of Tooru’s mouth. “And invite some of the guys from the basketball team.”

It was no secret to Suga that his best friend had been seeing the sophomore shooting guard, Hajime Iwaizumi. They were subtle on campus, never holding hands or kissing in the view of other people. But their looks to each other said it all - the way Tooru cheered extra loud whenever Hajime scored, accentuating it with a wink and a flourishing high kick. It was the protective, yet loving hand that the business major left on Tooru’s thigh when they were eating lunch or having coffee together. It was the smile in his emerald eyes when he chastised the cheerleader for calling him that ‘shitty nickname’. It was painfully obvious, even though the tall brunette claimed they were ‘just fooling around’ - ‘ _he’s probably not even that serious about me, Suga-chan_.’

“Okay,” Suga had agreed with a reluctant smile. “A party.”

Mistakes aren’t always evident at first, that’s the problem. They’re sometimes clandestine and hard to pick up on while they’re happening. Sometimes, they’re tall with broad shoulders, and they have gorgeous blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and they speak with such eloquence and promise that their malicious intentions aren’t blatantly obvious.

“I’m Gavin. What’s your name?”

That was the sentence that would drastically change Suga’s life, leaving a lasting impression on his self-worth and dating habits, even into adulthood.

He brought the red solo cup to his lips, the harsh smell of Bacardi and sprite stinging his nostrils. “I’m Koushi,” he replied, extending his hand out, allowing Gavin’s much larger one to envelop his. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Koushi.”

Suga wasn’t inexperienced by the time he met Gavin. He had had his fun, fooled around with boys to figure out what he liked, and what he didn’t. There were a few hook-ups, a little messing around, a lot of making out. 

Once, Hajime had even walked in on Suga and Tooru making out on a couch at a cheer party their freshman year, though both lacked recollection of that actually happening. Apparently, the basketball player had gone to get Tooru a refill and had returned to find the scene unfolding. The duo agreed to blame Captain Morgan and move on, while also calling Hajime a perv.

(‘ _Why didn’t you break us up, Iwa-chan?’_  
_‘Shit, I dunno, I just thought it was normal for y'all!’_ _  
_ ‘ _Iwa likes to watch, what a perv_!’)

Gavin refilled his cup, then filled it again. They talked and talked, this good-looking guy was more than met the eye. He was charming and funny, and when he smiled, it felt like Suga’s insides melted to liquid and limbs turned to putty. He was a pre-med major, a basketball player who grew up in a wealthy family and was from the next state over. He touched Suga’s hair, tucking it behind his ear as he whispered sweet words - things that the blonde would later realize was sweet-talk, empty, and insincere. But there, curled up in the big man’s lap, the taste of rum on his lips and the sweltering heat in his veins, none of it felt like a mistake.

Kissing him that night had been electric; that handsome, athletic junior touching his body, sucking red and purple blooms into his neck, full lips pressed to his pale skin. It was the first time someone had ever told Suga, “you’re beautiful” and he believed it. This total Adonis of a man was saying it, so it had to be true, right? Just like all of his other words?

A thousand thoughts invaded his brain, and as those large hands crept higher, slipping under his shirt to smooth over his flushed and sensitive skin, he couldn’t help but utter the question that was burning in his lungs as he tried to push back the inebriated fog. “Ah-are you gay?” Suga asked, pulling away from their steamy kiss, attempting to gather his thoughts. They were in Suga’s room, the tall blonde with his back to the headboard, Suga’s knees slotted on either side of the basketball player’s thick thighs. The music hummed around them as it vibrated from the living room, something poppy and catchy, pulled straight from Tooru’s playlist.

“Does it matter?” Gavin asked, thinking himself coy and flirtatious. He increased his hold on Suga’s hips, long fingers powerful, strong. He smelled so good, like a mint body wash, and his mouth tasted rich and sharp, warm with whiskey. 

“I mean--” the ash-blonde began, but his words were cut off by more kisses, lips trailing up the long expanse of Suga’s neck, around his pointed jawline, finally meeting his eager mouth. 

Suga had a fear, a boiling, itching fear - he never wanted to be some straight guy’s ‘ _yeah, this one time in college_ ’. He didn’t want that for himself. He knew exploration was vital, but he wasn’t interested in being cast aside, not with this person. Not when he was so gorgeous and so sweet and his touch felt so damn good.

“Have you ever--” he moaned as perfectly white teeth nipped as his collarbone, “ah, ever been with a guy?”

Suga always assumed that Gavin meant for his laugh to come across as playful, but in his memory, it would always carry a hint of condescension, a sick humor. “You’re pretty enough, babe. Just like a girl.”

That comment should have hurt Suga then, and it would later, looking back on it. But at that time, those lips were just too good, those hands just too intoxicating, the alcohol just too hot in his brain. Besides, the rock hard tent Gavin was pitching in the front of his way-too-expensive jeans was sign enough, right? He was interested in Suga, and they could discuss it later.

It was always later.

“How are things with Gavin?” Tooru asked one day as they were seated at their kitchen table. It was late fall, and midterms had come and gone. Basketball season was picking up, the first games of the year just beginning. The best friend duo felt as though they were losing both of their suitors to the sport, but it was to be expected.

Suga shrugged, keeping his eyes fixed on the microbiology notes in front of him. “They’re alright,” he said rather noncommittally. They’d only been seeing each other for about two months, since the night of the party. Suga wasn’t even sure if it was a serious thing or they were just having a lot of amazing sex - he was too afraid to ask. 

Though to be honest, coaching Gavin through sex with a man had been a trial in and of itself. He seemed into it right out of the gate, but the logistics really slowed things down. It wasn’t a big deal - Suga didn’t mind. He had to open himself up, and Gavin seemed to enjoy watching. In Suga’s experience, some tops didn’t always like the responsibility. It wasn’t a deal-breaker. He was enamored with the tall blonde, through and through, and was willing to make it work.

However, that wasn’t where the issue lied. 

Tooru popped a grape into his mouth and leaned back in his seat, hazel eyes narrowed. “Just alright?” he asked, voice taking on a teasing quality. “The sounds coming out of your room about three times a week suggest otherwise.”

Suga set his pencil down and scowled. “Oh, like you’re any better,” he retorted with a chastising click of his tongue. He and Hajime had been hot and heavy lately, though Tooru denied that they were official. They had been going at it for months, dancing around the topic of commitment. _‘We’re just fuck buddies, Suga-chan… with feelings, kind of’_ , Tooru would explain, but Koushi knew better than to point out those plot holes. Fuck buddies didn’t kiss each other goodbye at the door after they stayed over, or bring Tooru’s favorite caramel latte by the education building every Tuesday, or stay up to help make economics flashcards for Hajime’s midterm.

And based on his own current situation, Suga would know.

“Don’t give me attitude, sir, I am knee-deep in writing practice lesson plans and I am not in the mood,” he scowled, but it lacked heat. “Now tell me what the deal is with you two.”

Suga sighed heavily and shut his notebook - it looked like he wasn’t going to learn shit about parasitology today. “We’re just…” he started, then stopped, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I don’t know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Of course I like him!” Suga scoffed, throwing his best friend a disarming look. “I just don’t know if he likes me.”

“Why would you say that?”

The ashen-blonde deflated in his seat, leaning heavily against the backrest. “I think he’s straight.”

Tooru blinked slowly, trying to register his best friend’s words. “You think he’s straight?”

“I know you think that probably sounds stupid, all things considered,” Suga began to explain, “but I somehow feel like I’m the token gay experiment for him.” The nursing student sighed and then continued. “Plus, I don’t think he takes us seriously. He says really sweet things but then doesn’t act on them. He doesn’t act like Hajime.” He cleared his throat and thumbed at the corner of his notebook. “He doesn’t always treat me the best.”

“So break it off,” Tooru stated simply as if that were the most obvious answer in the world. “You deserve to have wild, hot, life-altering sex, but not at the expense of you feeling like you’re just being used.” The brunette leaned forward in his seat and put a comforting hand on Suga’s cheek. “Listen, babe. You’re gorgeous and amazing, you’ll find someone better. You deserve to be treated like the amazing person you are.”

Suga relaxed into the touch. It was so warm and familiar, and oh so loving. Tooru was good at that. He had long, pretty hands that knew just how to comfort and soothe, almost paternal in a way. One day, Tooru would make an excellent parent.

“So I should just break it off?”

“Well, my suggestion would be to simply ghost him since he’s probably done that to countless girls and now you can give him a taste of his own medicine,” Tooru basically choked on that revelation, smoothing a thumb across Suga’’s cheekbone. “But you do what you want.”

“Yeah? Just break it off?”

“Listen, I know I probably don’t have a lot of room to talk. Iwa-chan and I aren't really the most conventional couple and he’s got a lot of stuff going on and I…” Tooru let out a quick puff of air as he released Suga’s face and folded his arms across his slender chest, “and I want to give him some space while he works things out. He’s not a player or anything like that, I think he just has to have time to think before he makes decisions. He internalizes a bit.”

Tooru had shared some stories about Hajime’s background. He was attending Seijo on a basketball scholarship and received a small dorm and meal stipend from the state since he had aged out of the foster care system. He was very smart, ambitious, too, with big dreams to move past the circumstances he grew up in. Recently, Hajime was having some trouble with his dad, who had apparently been released from prison after serving a sentence for armed robbery and drug possession. Tooru was trying to give him space as he worked through his family drama-- Hajime was a very private person who valued his independence, which made sense, considering his tumultuous childhood. Though it took a lot for Tooru not to take it personally when the darker brunette asked for space so he could handle things on his own. Meddling was basically the cheerleader’s love language.

“So you’re a couple now?” Suga asked, arching his eyebrows with sincere wonderment.

The brunette shrugged and pouted his lips. “It’s complicated.”

“So break it off?” the nursing student suggested, teasingly offering up the same piece of advice that was just given to him.

Tooru recoiled at that, a sneer painted on his attractive features. “Break it off? With Iwa-chan? Are you insane?” 

“Damn, I don’t know, I’m just repeating what you said!” Suga giggled then, clearly amused by Tooru’s disdain for his suggestion.

“Do as I say, not as I do," the brunette was laughing as well, taking in another grape. “Though I meant every word I said.”

Suga would come to wish he had listened to his best friend.

Another month would pass, and Christmas break approached, leaving the duo to their own devices for several weeks.

“Are you going to go and visit your parents?” Tooru asked carefully from his perch on the sofa, bare feet stuck underneath Suga’s sweatpants-clad thighs, keeping his toes warm. Suga had come out to his family over the summer, and it had been… well, rough, to say the least. His parents were incredibly disapproving of his declaration, calling him less-than-kind slurs and telling him that he wasn’t welcome home until he decided to act ‘normal’.

“Nah,” he answered softly, gripping his tea mug a bit tighter. On their little TV, a Hallmark Christmas movie played, the volume turned down low. Tooru was flipping through a beauty magazine, eyeing his best friend from over the top of the page. 

“Do you want to come home with me instead?” he questioned. Tooru’s parents were a bit shocked at first when he first came out in high school. But time had helped sway them, and they were growing more accepting of their son. They even went as far as to tell him to bring someone back for Christmas, if he was seeing anybody. Tooru made plans to introduce Hajime, who didn’t have a home to return to for Christmas and was kicked out of the dorms during the holiday season, as per the college policy. It might get a bit crowded, but they knew Suga and would welcome him with open arms regardless. Tooru’s parents were good people- a little traditional at times, but overall, would bend over backward for their children. 

Suga glanced over and attempted to give one of those warm, signature smiles of his. However, it failed, and it came across as a bit disingenuous and it was almost painful to look at. “I’ll be fine. You’ll just stay there for a few days, right? And then come back?” The last thing he wanted to do was step on their toes. It was a big leap, Tooru and Hajime going home together, and Suga wanted to give the couple their space. Their relationship had shared some ups and downs, and it was high time they made a solid step in the right direction. 

“What will you do?” 

“I will just hang out here until you get back,” Suga had assured him, gesturing vaguely to the TV with his mug. “Don’t worry about me.”

Christmas was a turning point. A snowstorm had hit the midwest, grounding flights and halting travel. Tooru and Hajime had managed to drive to Tooru’s parents before the worst of it hit, however, it left them stranded there until things cleared up. And just when Suga thought he was destined to spend all of break alone, a text came through from the one person he wasn’t expecting: _I can’t fly home. Can I stay with you for a while?_ They hadn’t seen much of each other because of basketball and finals, so he was more than surprised. 

_Of course,_ Suga had said - those words were the final domino to start a chain of events. At first, Suga relished not having to spend the holidays alone. They baked cookies and ate them while watching cheesy Christmas movies. They had sex underneath the haphazardly strung set of twinkling string lights he had hung up to feel festive. They cuddled and kissed and things were amazing, like something from a holiday film. Gavin was an illusionist, a dream-weaver, a script-writer, an actor. He could set the stage better than any Oscar-nominee.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Gavin asked him, the taste of peppermint schnapps heavy on his tongue from where it had rolled through Suga’s mouth. 

“Yes,” he replied breathlessly, dizzy on the prospect; as if he would say anything else. "I was scared you didn't like me." 

A wolfish grin. "I'll make it up to you. Let me show you just how much I like you." 

So they were dating now. The games were behind them. They could truly act out their feelings and maybe go on dates and hold hands and, and, _and…_

The spring semester began and life returned to campus. The basketball season peaked, the team traveling for road games. It was late January before the first red flag hit. The waving, scarlet warning signal that Suga should have never ignored.

 _‘Always keep your location services on_ ,’ came the text from the road. It wasn’t a question or a request - it was a command. 

_‘Why_?’ Suga made the mistake of asking. 

_‘So I know where you are, even when I’m on the road._ ’ It came with a justification, it always would, ‘ _so I know you’re safe._ ’

It snowballed from there, Gavin’s possessive streak coming to life with each passing month. There were rules - _keep your location services on. Answer texts right away. Answer your phone when I call you. Keep your attention wholly fixed on me when we’re together._

_‘It’s all for your safety, babe, you live off-campus and there are fucking weirdos around. You’re too pretty to not protect.’_

Reasons disguised at compliments. Justifications. Explanations.

Suga brushed it off, especially when Gavin informed him that this was just how committed relationships were- he needed to stop being so selfish and show more concern for the other’s feelings. Suga could do that- he could be more considerate. He could be a better boyfriend. 

More rules:

_Don’t invite other guys over to your house. Or girls, for that matter._

_Text me when you get to work so I know you made it. What time does your shift start?_

_Text me when you leave class so I can walk you to the dining hall. I will leave my class early if I need to._

The comments:

_Babe, is that appropriate to wear to the gym? Other guys might look at you._

_You should wear makeup for me when we’re together. I like it when you look pretty._

_Text me a picture of what you’re thinking before you cut your hair. I am picky about how it looks on you._

Valentine’s Day approached, and Tooru suggested a double-date with their basketball hottie boyfriends. Suga was so excited when Gavin agreed, and the four went out to dinner and a movie together. He was different in front of other people somehow. It was subtle, but it was there. The large blonde kept his hands on Koushi at all times, the touch always a bit bruising, a bit possessive, like talons enclosing around prey. 

Tooru noticed and commented, slipping away to refill their popcorn. “How long has he acted like that?”

Suga’s face heated up. “Like what?”

“Like he owns you.” The intensity and concern in that hazel gaze had been palpable, heavy with worry. Nothing slipped past Tooru. A nonchalant shrug and a passive wave of his hand was all the answer Suga gave as Gavin’s advice rang in his ears.

_Talking to Tooru about this would be useless, babe. Do you want to bother your friend with such a stupid question? Doesn’t he have enough of his plate with Hajime’s issues? He’s always bending over backward for you, you should be more considerate._

“He’s just touchy tonight.”

Thankfully, Tooru wasn’t so easily convinced, and his skepticism grew as the semester marched forward. He found excuses for group dates, constantly asking Hajime if they could include Gavin and Koushi on outings or trips to the bar. Of course, Hajime didn’t mind. They were on the basketball team and he liked Gavin well enough. Why not?

Suga was wilting, like delicate flowers left out in the summer sun. He was changing, skittish, always wary of Gavin’s rules. His skin became pallid, the light left his eyes, and he laughed less. Sex turned violent at points, but Suga didn’t tell anyone - he would bother them, right? So he hid his wrists (‘ _they’re just restraints, Koushi, calm down’_ ) and covered his legs, even as the weather turned warm (‘ _Jesus, I just bit you a few times, I know you like it, quit crying - I just mark you because I like you so much’_ ). He would take ice baths to soothe his body after the abuse it endured - spankings he didn’t consent to, lack of proper stretching, getting his hair pulled viciously during oral. Koushi would sit in the water and sob, contemplating if he really did deserve better, or if he was a fool for believing so.

Tooru noticed and wasn’t the type to keep quiet. He asked, repeatedly - _Suga, are you sure you’re alright? Is Gavin being nice? Tell me what’s going on._ But Suga would never budge, claiming things were good, that he was just tired, that his classes were difficult, that his shift at the mall was exhausting. He would cover it up because he didn’t want to be a burden.

It was late April when the scales finally tipped and Tooru was handed the evidence he needed to finally prove his suspicions correct.

“Koushi, don’t act like this.” Gavin was using _that_ voice again, that cool, calculating tone that he tried to make sound sweet when in reality was anything but. His blue eyes flashed, hinting at something fierce, a wild heat of burning butane, like a brush fire out of control. His blonde lashes fluttered, thick and heavy, giving the illusion of innocence; all part of his grand scheme. “You’re making a scene.”

“Don’t act like what, Gavin?” the smaller man spit back, looking right up into his boyfriend’s eyes. “Mad? Upset? Pissed the fuck off?” he was fuming so hard, he could feel the blood flaring up underneath his cheeks, cloying it way up to his chest. “You don’t get to dictate how I feel! I’m so tired of this.” He had been holding so much in, but he was finally at his breaking point, the exhaustion quaking in his body and the liquor in his bloodstream creating a cocktail of emotions he could no longer keep at bay.

A large, powerful hand came up and snaked around his wrist, the movement stinging like lightning. Suga winced and tried to pull back, but the pressure only increased, Gavin jerking him forward with a sharp snap. He yelped in pain as the shockwaves rolled through his upper body 

“Koushi, I was fucking _normal_ before you came around, do you understand me?” He was seething through clenched teeth, hissing right in Suga’s ear. Around them, no one seemed to notice, at least not from what the ashen-haired student could gather. He prayed, heart pounding, begging, _someone see him act like this, please. Please prove to me that I’m not crazy, that I’m not making this up._

“We’re in a relationship, Gavin!” he spat, venom replacing the honey that usually pooled in his eyes. “You can’t fucking hit on girls!” 

“This is _your_ fault, Koushi. Don’t get this shit twisted.” He bared his teeth and his blue irises looked animalistic under the strobe lights of the club. “You’re a fucking _exception_ for me. You look like that and expect me to act fucking _fine_?” his words were sinister, carnal, possessive. “You look like a little slut right now,” he waved a showcasing hand, gesturing to his skin-tight jeans and high-cut crop top. ”Did that faggot Tooru dress you, hmm? Does he play dress-up with you, treat you like a doll?” The bruising grip was doing its job, rendering Suga immobile. In his free hand, Suga could feel the plastic of his bar cup bending and bowing, preparing to break.

“Shut up,” he pleaded, though it was soft, almost inaudible over the raucous hip-hop music pouring from the tall black speakers positioned around the dance floor. 

A spine-chilling laugh left the tall man’s body and echoed just below the vibrations of the music, burrowing into every fiber of Suga’s being. His blue eyes clouded, narrowed to a fine point. “Bossy, aren’t we?” he chastised with a disapproving shake of his head. “Who taught you how to talk like that?”

“Let me go,” he whimpered, trying to pull back, but his boyfriend was too strong, his grip iron-clad. 

“Why? So you can go suck Tooru’s dick?” He chuckled again low in his throat. “You’re just a little faggot, too, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Excuse the fuck out of me?” 

Suga’s head whipped around so fast, it almost caused his neck to snap. The man in question was standing next to them now, his sneaky little footsteps undetected. Tooru’s face housed three things: beautifully-winged eyeliner, a fine sheen of sweat from dancing, and an expression that looked set to _fucking murder_. Suga was never certain which one suited him better.

“Oh look, the bitch in question,” he derided, that good-guy mask crumbling with each passing second, falling from his face in chunks, finally proving his true colors. He glanced over Suga’s shoulder, securing eye contact with Tooru. “Come to help your little damsel?”

“You’re gonna want to let him go, Gavin.” That tone had never left Tooru before, not that Suga had ever heard at least. It was terrifying, even scarier than the voice he used to turn down the football captain, Wakatoshi, their freshman year. It was protective and lethal in the best way possible. 

“Or what?” the blonde sneered, alcohol thick on his breath. He reeked of whiskey and the clove cigarettes he tended to smoke when he got drunk, an attempt to look aloof and relatable. “What is your twink ass gonna do about it?”

Suddenly, whatever tension had been on Suga’s wrist was relieved, and a resounding crack pierced his eardrums as bone met bone with a crucifying crunch. Red blood dripped from the divots in Tooru’s knuckles, his beautiful, pale skin stained a stark carmine. His hazel eyes flashed. “I knew you were fucking trash.”

Gavin blinked, long and slow, as if waiting for his vision to be restored. The whiskey was well-settled in his bloodstream, so his reactions were sluggish. As a power forward, the blonde naturally stood a baffling, statuesque 6’4”, making even Tooru look petite in comparison. 

His brunette best friend brought his fists up to his face, feet shifted in a fighting stance, eager and ready for Gavin to swing back. “Holy shit,” Gavin hissed, lip split and gushing blood, the red liquid dripping down his square jawline. “I guess all that hand strength comes from jacking off other homos.”

“Look in the mirror, you piece of shit,” Tooru snarled. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’ve been sticking your dick in an asshole for the past 8 months. Or are you that stupid that you can’t tell basic anatomy apart?”

“Try me, bitch.”

“Wrong choice of words.” It was Hajime’s gravel voice that came next, the broad man appearing from seemingly out of nowhere, though in reality, he had probably been occupied ordering new drinks at the bar and just walked in on the scene. He was six inches shorter than his teammate, but this did little to deter him as he stood and created a barrier, separating his boyfriend and best friend from the violent blonde. “Back the fuck up, Gavin.” 

The taller man pressed the back of his hand to his swelling lip, a wicked grin splitting his face in two. “Well, well, well. Look who showed up. Come to catch another charge, Hajime?” Around them, the music pulsed, a cacophony of blue and red lights flashing in time to the blistering beat. It was dark apart from that, but even in the lowlight, Suga would always remember the murderous expression Hajime wore, lined with disgust and pure, unadulterated rage.

“Do you want to repeat that?”

“Do you want to spend the next 15 years in a jail cell just like your daddy, hmm?” He smiled, grinning at his own sick idea of a joke. “My dad’s a fucking lawyer, Hajime. All I need to do is tell the school you’re the one who threw this punch and it’s game over for you.”

“You don’t know shit about me,” the business major _growled_ , canines visible, looking ready to pounce. “I’ll make it fucking worth my time.”

A trembling hand found its way to Hajime’s shoulder. “Iwa-chan,” Tooru all but whispered, voice almost lost to the music. “What is he talking about?”

“Oh, your boyfriend doesn’t know about your stint in juvie, huh?” Cerulean eyes switched back to Tooru, clearly pleased with the pot he was stirring. “Your beloved _Iwa-chan_ served time in a juvenile detention center for attacking someone in his foster home. I think he has an affinity for such violent tendencies.” He clicked his tongue and screwed his features into one that emulated false sympathy. “You should be careful, you might be next.”

“Iwa… is that true?”

Tooru hadn’t removed his hand from Hajime’s broad shoulder, but it was obvious that he was deflating, waning before their eyes. The proud ferocity had left his stance and his gaze found the ground. A few beats passed before Hajime finally answered. “It’s true,” he croaked through a thick throat. “It’s… a long story.”

“Tell them, Hajime, tell them how you--”

“Fuck you, Gavin!” and a swift right hook to his gut had him doubled over, the wind leaving his sails as Koushi struck. The big man fell to his knees and sputtered a wet cough. “Don’t you ever touch me or my friends again.”

“Finally grew a set of balls, did you?” he laughed weakly, one large hand propping him up on the floor, fingers sticky from where Suga had dropped his beverage, the other wrapped around his midsection. “Here all I thought you had was a fucking pussy.” He licked the blood clinging to his lips. “And God, do I know a lot about pussy. I’ve been burying my cock in girls all the way up through Christmas, Koushi, or are you that fucking stupid? You’re lucky your asshole is tight.” He flashed that million-dollar smile. “You’re pretty like a little cunt.”

Adrenaline pounded in his veins and roared in his eardrums as he clutched the front of his (from here on out) ex-boyfriend’s douche-canoe designer polo. “If you ever come near me or my family,” his threat hot against Gavin’s cheek, “I will fucking end you.”

“That’s cute, Koushi. Really cute.” He winced, breath evening back out. “You’re just the token straight guy fuck, don’t get too proud now.”

It was Suga’s turn to take on a shit-eating grin. “If you ever want to get your dick wet again, I suggest you transfer, lest you’ve forgotten who the Queen of this school is.” He gestured over his shoulder to where Tooru stood, hand clasped firmly in Hajime’s, hazel eyes wide and burning. “And I’ll make sure he tells every cheerleader, every education major, every honors girl, that you cry like a bitch after you cum.” He leaned and lowered his voice, “ _because you do._ ”

Suga stood back up the full height, leaving Gavin kneeling on the concrete floor. “You’ll always be a little slut, Koushi.” Blood was smeared across his chin now, clinging to his neck and the collar of his shirt. 

Tooru took Suga’s hand, his other still clinging to Hajime. “Yeah, and you’ll always be a possessive piece of shit.”

Gavin smiled and winked as he rose to his feet. “You’ll never forget me, Koushi.”

The summer closed and their junior year began. Gavin transferred, rumors citing that he’d been accepted early into med school thanks to an expensive donation attached to his father’s name, no doubt. Suga did his best to put the past behind him, but it was difficult. He constantly worried that the tall blonde would show back up and things would start all over again. The fear was debilitating and the anxiety alone became crippling.

People on the basketball team caught wind of Hajime’s past prior to Gavin’s departure, presumably the abusive asshole’s one last ‘fuck you’ before dipping out. Surprisingly, however, the truth actually set Hajime free more than it hurt him. He explained the charge he had gotten at age 14, an assault charge from when he had hit his foster dad so many times that he had to be hospitalized - it was the price he paid for protecting his five-year-old foster sister from being molested by the man. 

The case was confirmed and the foster dad spent time in a real prison. Unfortunately, this did nothing to overturn Hajime’s case, labeling him a ‘violent child’. After serving two years, he rejoined public school at 16, basketball his outlet. Since he was a juvenile, his records were sealed, and he was able to get a scholarship. No one on the team faulted him or made him feel bad for his past, and Tooru fell more in love with his beloved Iwa-chan.

Suga didn’t pursue any more romantic relationships after that, at least not for his duration of college. He knew he had been traumatized by the ordeal and did his best to channel his free time and energy into his school work. He was thankful for his two best friends and that he was finding himself once more.

After graduation, Suga and Tooru opted to work together, both finding a job at a great elementary school in the suburbs. Tooru and Hajime bought a house, and Suga found the perfect duplex that suited him.

As time went on, he attempted to date, but no one stuck. One guy didn’t take his career seriously, (“ _a male school nurse? Can’t you at least work at a hospital?”_ ) so that was an automatic out. Another boyfriend had actually stuck around for about a year, but he wanted Suga to uproot his life and move to New York once he was offered a new job, and that wasn’t going to work - he wouldn’t leave his found family - Tooru and Hajime. And finally, the last guy about three years ago started showing many of the same possessive characteristics as Gavin, which earned the dude a blocked phone number and a ‘go fuck yourself’.

Things were starting to look bleak - Tooru was even going as far as to try to set him up with one of Hajime’s cousins at the wedding, for Christ’s sake. (This earned Tooru a flat-out _hell no_.) 

“The right guy will come along when you least expect it, Suga-chan! Just hang in there and don’t give up hope,” Tooru offered as a word of advice.

Suga would have no idea what awaited him once the school year began.

Maybe Tooru really did have a crystal ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof.  
> I am so sorry friends. I know Suga-chan went thru the wringer, but I am glad we know where he is today and who he's with. This chapter turned out pretty heavy, and I know it was a lot to handle. I promise, as always, more fluff is on the way. And humor. And Kuroo. I PROMISE.
> 
> As a respite, can I please offer you the opportunity to check out this FAN ART?! Blake- this work is SO beautiful!! Thank you for sharing Baby Tobio with Uncle 'Roo and the fabulously in love Iwaizumis!! You are so talented and my heart is SO FULL!! Please leave a comment here and tell her how awesome she did or go over to her Tumblr and tell her there. Just fabulous!! [CLICK HERE FOR ART!!](https://bbyblakeforthewin.tumblr.com/post/633092369956421632)
> 
> Again, thank you SO MUCH for all of your love and kind words on this fic!! You all are a blessing and I'm so grateful. I am going to make it up to you next chapter.
> 
> NEXT TIME: _It started off with a kiss..._


	15. Watercolor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda really was a jerk last chapter, so here's the fluffiest, sweetest, most flirtatious, and heart-rendering segment of this work to date. Y'all deserve it.
> 
> AND OH MY GOD WITH THIS CHAPTER, I JUST HIT MY FIRST FIC WITH 100K!!

The car ride was quiet, not that it needed to be noisy, or that Daichi could have heard much over the roaring of the blood in his ears. In the back seat, Tobio snoozed gently, body limp and leaning against the door. From the passenger seat, Suga’s long, nimble fingers curled between Daichi’s larger, sturdier ones, conjoined over the leather center console. 

Suga’s fingers were a bit cold, probably from the fall air, and Daichi’s jacket was just a bit too big for the nurse, so the dark sleeves hung loosely around his wrists. Over the radio, hushed music played, Daichi (thankfully) having found a decent classic rock station within the first few days of moving.

“The game was a lot of fun,” Suga said softly, flicking those warm eyes in the driver’s direction. Daichi swallowed heavily, keeping his attention focused on the road. The football stadium and his house weren’t too far apart, and he didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing as the nervousness swelled in his gut. Suga was so gorgeous and kind and perfect and Daichi had absolutely zero idea what to do with that information. Sure, he flirted a little and managed to scrape up a bit of gusto to even suggest that he was interested in this being a long term thing (which he was), but as they closed the distance to Daichi’s neighborhood he began to worry -  _ what if I’m not good enough?  _

“It was,” the brunette replied, doing his damndest to keep any second thoughts or nervousness from flashing across his face.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” the passenger whispered, giving Daichi’s hand the most gentle of squeezes. “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.”

Daichi smiled, his features dimly illuminated from the blue light of the dashboard. His thundering heart suddenly softened at that admission. “I wasn’t ready to, either.” And in a gesture that surprised even himself, he brought the back of Suga’s pale hand to his lips, the soft skin dotted with a few adorable freckles. How did this man make even flaws look so perfect?

Finally, what felt like an eternity but only minutes at the same time, Daichi pulled into his driveway, pressing the remote clipped to the visor and prompting the garage door to lift. Once settled inside, their hands parted and Daichi made his way to fetch Tobio from the backseat.

“Make yourself at home,” Daichi told Suga as he cradled his son in his arms. Tobio slept like a rock, the brunette boy curled up his broad chest, little legs bent at the knee over one of Daichi’s toned forearms. “I’m gonna go take him upstairs.”

“Sure, let me get the door,” Suga offered, holding open the wooden door that led from the garage into the kitchen. 

“There’s wine in the fridge or I keep the whiskey in the cabinet above the sink,” he offered, voice soft. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Sounds good,” the blonde acknowledged, leaning down to remove his shoes. And not to get caught up in the idea of the school nurse removing any other articles of clothing, he hurriedly made his way to the staircase.

“Here ya go, buddy,” Daichi whispered, laying his son on his little twin bed once they reached the bedroom. Tobio cracked a beautiful, cobalt eye, clearly still very sleepy. “Do you want to put some jammies on?”

Tobio only nodded, sitting up a little. Daichi helped him work off his Pokemon shoes (light up, like Pikachu), and then slide out of his day clothes, leaving him only in his Lightning McQueen underoos. “Do you want to go brush your teeth, sweetheart?” the young dad asked. Tobio didn’t reply, only disappeared out the room and down the hall. A few minutes passed, and Daichi had picked up the bedroom and put the dirty clothes in the hamper. When Tobio reemerged, he still looked very sleepy, but his face was washed and his hair had been combed. 

“Is Nurse Suga still here?” asked the boy with a quiet murmur, further evidence of his grogginess. Daichi held out a pair of pajama pants covered in little rocket ships. Holding on to his dad’s shoulders for support, he stepped into them. He then held his arms in the air, ready for his dad to pull the matching top on for him.

“Yes, he is,” Daichi answered finally, once the shirt had breached over his dark head. He pulled the hem down and fixed it before giving his son a tight hug.

“I heard someone humming,” Tobio explained, wrapping his arms around his dad’s neck. “It sounded really pretty.”

“I bet it did.” Even though he had only heard it once, Daichi knew that Suga’s singing voice was much like his speaking voice- warm, charming, with an airy movement that was animated, but subtly so. He didn’t sing, or even speak, for that matter, with the intention of outshining anyone; he simply glowed from the outside in, and everything he did reflected that.

“I want him to sing me a lullaby someday,” Tobio stated, catching the young dad completely off guard. Daichi found himself stuttering, taken a bit aback by his son’s candor. 

“Uh, maybe sometime, sweetheart,” he answered vaguely, guiding Tobio back toward the twin bed. The brunette boy pulled back the blanket and slid underneath of it, oceanic irises sated and drowsy. 

“Okay, daddy.”

“Did you have fun today?” Daichi asked in an attempt to steer the topic away from Nurse Suga. Not that it wasn’t presently his favorite topic, but there was a lot of uncharted territory he needed to work through with the magnetic blonde before he could provide Tobio with concrete answers to whatever questions might be ping-ponging around in that little skull of his.

“The best time!” he said as energetically as possible, though his drooping eyelids betrayed him. “Shoyou says he wants to play football someday, too.”

“And what about you?” Daichi asked, pulling the blanket up over his son’s chest and tucking it into his son’s sides, making him as ‘snug as a bug in a rug’ (it was kinda their thing.) 

“I liked the dancers.”

“You did?”

He nodded his head as his eyelids lowered just a bit further. “They’re so pretty and cool. And Mr. Hajime looked so happy watching Mr. Iwaizumi.” 

Daichi laughed at that comment. “Oh, he did, huh?” 

Tobio nodded again, this time, his eyes finally closing fully as he settled down into the pillow. It didn’t take but a moment for his facial features to relax, that ever-present curious pinch of his eyebrows to soften, and his breathing to become quiet. Daichi leaned down to give the apple of his son’s cheek a loving kiss, followed by, “goodnight, Tobio.” Rising to his feet, he crossed the room to plug in his nightlight and make sure his stuffed fish was tucked up under his arm. Turning off the main light, he softly shut the door with a tiny ‘click’ before retreating back down the stairs.

Suga was seated at the island, the bottle of whiskey opened and two of the rocks glasses unearthed. One of the blonde’s legs were pulled up to his chest as he sat on the tall, pub-style chair, the other dangling lazily, the toe of his stocking foot just a few inches from the white tile. He wore a happy grin on his face, the glow from the recessed lighting above the counter warming his angelic features. “Hey,” he greeted softly, damn near causing Daichi’s heart to stop. How could one creature be so flawless?

“Hey,” Daichi said as a reply, removing his sneakers at the bottom step and padding across the dining room floor. Suga held out his arms as he lowered the propped leg so his feet touched the footrest, and Daichi met his embrace. He smelled so good, like the fresh fall breeze, and that subtle, yet enticing cologne, the air around him faintly traced with the spice of whiskey. His body moved on its own volition, Daichi nuzzling the soft, velveteen skin on the slender column of Suga’s neck, closing his eyes to enjoy the touch of the man beneath him.

Suga giggled, his laughter vibrant and rich in Daichi’s dark hair, the nurse’s hand not occupied by a whiskey glass finding its way to the brunette’s broad back. He soothed a loving circle across his shoulders as they began to slouch, as if those magical, beautiful hands had melted a lifetime of tension away. “So pliant and sweet today,” Suga breathed, nimble fingers of that hand he loved to hold snaked up his spinal cord and then his neck, carefully carding through the fine hairs at the nape. 

“Holy shit, I think I really like you,” Daichi admitted, the words falling from his lips before he could even manage to govern them, to second guess or overthink them. They were raw, stumbling into the universe so real and vulnerable, but Daichi knew somehow that it was safe, that it was okay that they manifested, their bodies intertwined, his own large hands spread across Suga’s slender back, completely engulfed in his scent.

Another giggle, this one somehow sweeter, more delicate and bubbly as it spilled forward. “Such a romancer,” Suga teased as Daichi pulled away, meeting that almond gaze. Suga kept one hand clutched to his whiskey while the other traced over the fine planes of Daichi’s face, though the brunette stayed focused on the man before him. The color of Suga’s irises somehow appeared even more vivid, more golden beneath the lamplight. “Holy shit, I think I really like you, too,” the nurse confessed, though his words had a teasing lilt, equal parts impish and flirtatious as he winked.

The color rushed to Daichi’s cheeks as the reality of his proclamation settled in, heating his face and lighting a brilliant flame in his stomach. “I, uh,” he started, then cleared his throat, “need some whiskey.”

“Sure, sure,” Suga laughed, holding up his glass, which was still partway full, and allowing the broad brunette to take a quick gulp. He winced at the burn as he swiped the back of his hand across his lips. 

“Thank you.” Daichi cleared his throat again, then reached over to refill the glass. He handed it off to Suga before filling up the second, empty glass that had been set on the kitchen island. “Sorry about that,” he said after a moment as embarrassment, tinged with shame, crawled up his veins.

What the fuck was that? Where the hell did that confidence come from? Apart from that one time their freshman year of college, during a party they had no business attending when Kuroo and Daichi had been convinced to try weed by some gangly looking senior, he had never really been high. And he was pretty sure he wasn’t high now, right?  _ Then why the fuck are you acting like such an idiot?! _ He scolded himself, grasping at straws to maintain his composure as he practically shotgunned his whiskey. 

“Sorry for being absolutely adorable?” A gray eyebrow arched high on his forehead. “I’m not really sure what you’re apologizing for.”

“I’m really shit at this,” he admitted dryly, staring down into the amber liquid in his glass. 

“At what?”

He looked up and gestured vaguely, motioning between the two men, who now only stood inches apart. He didn’t even realize that he was sectioned between Suga’s knees as he faced the man, their mirrored elbows leaning heavily against the countertop. Their proximity was electrifying, and Daichi could feel the gnawing attraction ruminating in just about every nerve ending in his body. “You know,  _ this _ . Dating. Kissing…” His voice trailed off before he swiftly added in a much quieter tone, “touching.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad kisser or bad at dating.” A coy smile played out across pink lips, shining just a bit from the whiskey.  _ God, _ Daichi could lean down and kiss him, he was so absolutely gorgeous. Suga rested a hand on Daichi’s bare forearm, the gentleness of his touch engrossing as he ran the pads of his fingers higher and higher, until they curled around a solid bicep. “I don’t think you’re bad at touching, either.” His gaze turned sultry then, transforming right before Daichi. A metamorphosis was occurring, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. He could only swallow the lump in his throat as Suga added, “but you could touch me more, if you’d like practice.”

The honey-like gaze flitted upward then, and Daichi could feel that look burning on his lips, heated no longer just from the sharp alcohol. A full body flush rushed through him, like a wind surge or a crashing wave. He lowered his glass to the island, though never once taking his eyes off the nurse in front of him. 

“I--” he began, though his words were cut short when Suga reached out to gently cradle his face. Daichi relaxed into the touch, closing his eyes and leaning against the warmth. 

“We don’t have to rush, I’m sorry,” Suga explained, thumb brushing along the fine, dark lashes just below his left eye. He allowed them to flutter back open to catch a glimpse of the thoughtful, tender expression on Suga’s delicate features.

“Do you want to go sit down?” Daichi asked. His throat felt dry and anxiety tightened in his chest cavity because he knew what was coming next. They had to talk more before they physically moved forward. Because Daichi wanted to do so much with Suga, and his imagination ran wild (as well as his guilt) whenever he laid in bed and thought of that silken-fine hair and that alabaster skin and that goddamn collar bone he got a teasing glimpse of during their face-time chat. And he was fully aware that Suga felt along the same lines, given his flirtatious touches and suggestive language. 

Suga nodded, “okay, sure,” though his agreement wavered a bit. Maybe Suga was nervous, too? Daichi grabbed the whiskey bottle and his glass and signaled for the blonde to follow. He led them to the living room, the area dark except for the light coming from the kitchen. He motioned for Suga to have a seat while Daichi lowered what occupied his hands to the coffee table before reaching over to turn on the end table lamp. After taking just a moment to get adjusted, they sat facing each other. 

Suga had curled one leg under himself, resting his left arm along the back of the couch, his near-empty glass propped up on his slender, yet enticing, thigh. Daichi mimed the position, their legs gently touching and meeting on the sofa cushions. 

“That painting is beautiful,” Suga stated, breaking their silence as he pointed to the large, watercolor landscape canvas hanging above the television. Kuroo had helped Daichi unpack the house and hang up some decorations (‘ _ this isn’t a cheap bachelor pad, Dai. At least act like you have an ounce of taste and domestication in your body. _ ) “I didn’t notice it when I was here before.”

“Oh, thank you. I took it out of storage and Kuroo helped me hang it,” he explained. It wasn’t just any painting, though.

“It’s lovely.”

There was a moment of quick silence before Daichi revealed with bated breath, “My wife painted it.” He gave a sharp inhale, the action constricting his lungs. He didn’t know how else to describe her. She wasn’t  _ just  _ Tobio’s mom, and she certainly wasn’t his ex-wife, as they had been married up until the moment she passed. He was technically a widower, though it felt overkill to say ‘my late wife painted that’. Suga knew the woman was deceased. The young dad couldn’t shake the guilt, however. He had never addressed Yui to a potential lover before (not that he had ever had one), and he wasn’t sure how else to say it. 

The blonde seemed to falter a moment, something akin to jealousy, or possibly even heartache, flashing across his otherwise demure expression. He schooled it quickly though, seeming to be working through the chosen vernacular as much as Daichi was. Daichi was prepared for him to have a multitude of questions, ‘ _ why did you bring her up? Why does that matter? Are we going to talk about your dead wife every time we’re alone together?’ _ so he was understandably floored when Suga asked one he didn’t see coming at all, “she really loved art, didn’t she?” 

He blinked his brown eyes heavily, making no move to reach for the whiskey on the table. Did Suga care to learn more about Yui? Or was he just being polite? “She did, actually.” He couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice as he spoke, remembering that magical time in his life when Yui was healthy and well, sitting in their spare bedroom (that would later become Tobio’s nursery), a canvas propped up on an easel, her girlish frame surrounded by a smattering of paint, pastels coloring her porcelain skin, dotted and sporadic, like faded freckles. “She worked in an art gallery and she painted landscapes,” he recalled. “It was her life’s calling, to be an artist.”

He stared wistfully at the painting that now graced his living room. It was his favorite piece of hers, something she would always refuse to sell, despite how much she was offered. It was her rendition of the park where they had married; the grass green, the flowers wild, and the cobalt ocean calm and still at the very edges of the frame. It wasn’t realism, it didn’t look like a photograph. But it was soft-hued, with spring tones and stunning watercolors that seemed fluid and moving, even years after they had dried to the canvas. Daichi would always look back on their wedding day with this depiction of the venue at the forefront of his mind.

“You can tell she loved it just by looking at this piece.” He was staring up at the artwork, taking in every last detail. “What was her name?” The genuine compassion weaved into the question wasn’t lost on Daichi, neither was the encouraging light burning behind Suga’s eyes.  _ He’s not just being polite. _

“Yui.” It felt strange to say her name aloud, especially to someone who didn’t know her. Tetsu said her name all the time, especially to Tobio. It was only a meager three letters long, but it was one of Daichi’s favorite words. 

“Which kanji did she write it with?” Suga asked. Daichi knew a little kanji, though not near as much as his dad would have probably liked.

“It’s written with the same markings as ‘reason’, actually.” That was a fact that made his heart swell - Yui was a reason for many things, namely, the existence of their beautiful, sweet Tobio. 

“You really loved her.” It wasn’t phrased as a question, why would it be? Of course Daichi loved her,  _ still _ loved her, in many regards. Her life had been a beacon of hope for him, a door that opened his otherwise monochromatic world, a palette of dazzling color gone much too soon. 

“She was my best friend, Koushi.” He wished more than anything he could begin to describe her to his new love interest in a way that really emphasized exactly what she meant. “She was our best friend, mine and Kuroo’s.” He sighed and shook his head, “I’m sorry, this probably isn’t why you came over…”

The blonde was seemingly full of surprises as he reached over and took one of Daichi’s hands in his, twining their fingers together. “You can talk about her if you want.” 

“You’re not bothered?”

Suga kept his expression careful as he put a lot of thought into his response. The house was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the heating unit as it vibrated through the air ducts hidden behind drywall and coats of earth-toned paint. “I suppose I should be, maybe?” He spoke honestly, not that Daichi expected anything less. Suga didn’t seem to have an insidious or secretive bone in his body. He wore his heart on his sleeve. Daichi held Suga’s hand tighter. “But I get the feeling there is a lot more to your relationship and her passing than I could ever understand, and as someone who cares for you, and for Tobio,” he let his gaze flick back toward the staircase for emphasis, “I want you to feel comfortable talking about her. And I want to listen.”

Could someone fall in love this fast? Daichi couldn’t help but wonder. He had so much he wanted to tell the beautiful man sitting in front of him, whose hand was curled in his own, who wore that loving smile, who seemed so keen on just being there and listening and… he wanted to cry. What did he do to deserve this, to deserve someone like Suga? The overwhelming emotion must have been written on his face, because the next thing Daichi knew, Suga was leaning forward, pressing his whiskey lips to Daichi’s flushed, warm cheek.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” the seraphim creature whispered as he drew slightly backward, concern and affection evident in the tiny crinkle of his forehead, the slight furrow of his brow, the searching look in his eye.

“ _ Koushi _ ,” the blonde’s name came out breathless, like a longing sigh, each letter leaving his tongue in winded exasperation and reverence. “You didn’t,” Daichi assured the nurse, using his free hand to brush gray strands away from his face, allotting him a better look at the sweet being in his midst. 

“Then will you kiss me again, Daichi?” Suga requested, words syrupy, thick with emotion and yearning, his eyes the color of the unfinished whiskey in his glass. “Just to make sure?”

“Of course,” he replied, leaning forward until their lips met. It wasn’t the cosmic collision from the rooftop nor the impassioned blaze they had shared on Suga’s sofa. This was something new entirely, something susceptible and tentative, the faintest touching. Daichi’s large hand still framed Suga’s face, brushing his thumb over the man’s prominent cheekbone. Every inch of his skin, thus far, had proved to be supple and pliant, as if he truly were some heavenly creature sent to grace earth with his presence.

After a few moments, Suga’s tongue asked a question, and Daichi’s mouth widened to answer, the long-dormant heat unfurling in his chest as the blonde moved closer. His eyes were closed, but he felt it all: the slow drag of gentle, searching hands as they splayed across his chest, the warm welcome of an ambitious mouth, the lowest of keens caught in Suga’s throat, the humming heady and stirring as it rolled through their connected bodies.

Emboldened, Daichi’s own hands moved, explored, leaving the safety of the blonde’s face to roam instead over lean biceps, still shrouded by Daichi’s own jacket. They scouted down to narrow hips, his thumbs so naturally finding the divots in hip bones while the bulk of his hand rested delicately in the uncharted expanse between the small of Koushi’s back and the swell of his pert ass. 

Suga shifted, never once breaking their kiss, moving to slot his knees on either side of Daichi’s thighs, seating himself gingerly on the brunette’s lap. He was an expressive kisser, using his mouth in this capacity as a replacement to words, which was fine with Daichi. The tangibility of it, coupled with the intimacy and the closeness, it was beautiful, and he felt as if he was finally understanding what Suga had been trying to tell him.

_ I don’t care if you’re broken or burdened _ , is what his body seemed to say,  _ because I am, too. _

Breaking the kiss, Daichi looked up, blown away by the heavy, half-lidded eyes that greeted him, weighted by a fan of pewter lashes, shimmering rich and dewy. Suga’s lips were pink and shining, delicate as rose petals, softer than a whisper. He looked so ethereal, so stunning, so absolutely breathtaking. “I don’t want to pressure you,” Daichi found the courage to say, “and I’m not sure how much I’m ready for, but would you like to stay the night with me?” 

Suga could only nod enthusiastically before crashing forward once again, this time, slinging his arms around Daichi’s neck as he buried his face in the juncture of his collarbone. “Can I?” he asked, his breathing a bit labored. “Stay, that it is?” his words ghosted over tan, sensitive skin.

“Of course,” Diachi assured, running his hands up Suga’s back, fighting every instinct that cried out for him to slide them underneath the blonde’s shirt, to feel that gorgeous, flawless skin with his own bare hands. 

“I have a guest room, or, uh--” but his babbling was silenced by another kiss, this one deep and loving, as if to communicate ‘ _ like hell I’m sleeping anywhere in this house but with you. _ ’ It faded out into a series of quick pecks and a happy giggle, Suga sucking his own bottom lip in between his teeth. Daichi wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or just an intuitive reaction, but the sight of it caused his mouth to dry up a little. How could one man be  _ this  _ incredible?  
  


///  
  


How could one man be  _ this fucking  _ incredible? Suga couldn’t help but muse. He was seated on Daichi’s lap, arms around his neck, hands in his hair, breathing in the masculine scent that the brunette always seemed to carry on his person. It was almost intoxicating while being wrapped in both his jacket and his arms, and Suga had to fight off the urge to just simply remove both of their clothes and find out just how all-consuming it could be. 

_ Give him some space _ . That was the plan going into this. Daichi clearly wasn’t ready to dive in physically, and Suga certainly wasn’t the type to pressure. Though he had a hard time governing the flirtatious words that left his mouth, however, they were meant to be playful and just a bit coy, to fluster and rouse the other man. Daichi was a god, basically, a walking Adonis with a heart of gold. That much was evident given his kind smile, his puppy dog eyes, and that thoughtful, almost attentive, look he wore on his face.

Talking about Daichi’s late wife wasn’t something he planned on for the night, but Suga was glad she came up simply because their marriage seemed to be weighing on the brunette. While her cause of death wasn’t abundantly clear, the nature of their relationship had been revealed: she was his other best friend, which clearly layered on top of being Daichi’s wife and Tobio’s mother. He couldn’t imagine losing Tooru, or Hajime, for that matter, so his heart ached for the young father. The idea of trying to move on from something like that sounded horrendous, and Suga instantly felt more in tune with where Daichi’s insecurities and reluctance came from.

“Show me your room, Mr. Sawamura.” His voice took on that teasing quality once again, trying to encourage the beefy man pinned between his legs to blush. And as his cheeks turned scarlet, Suga laughed, bringing his hand to his own face in an attempt to stifle some of its boisterousness. 

“Keep laughing and you’ll get carried up the stairs.” Those deep umber eyes narrowed, those sweet lips taking on a challenging smirk. Daichi’s hands were still braced on his hips, and Suga couldn’t resist the urge to play along.

“You wouldn’t.”

Oh, he would. 

And he did.

In one fell swoop, Suga was being hoisted over Daichi’s shoulder, bent in half at the waist. He let out a ferocious noise that was caught somewhere between a scream and giggle. Daichi kept his forearm latched tight across the back of Suga’s slender thighs while the smaller man protestingly kicked his feet, unwilling to go without a fight, though his barrage of giggles completely off-set his physical actions.

“Daichi! Put me down!” the blonde squawked and squealed, doing his best to wrangle free.  _ Do I even stand a chance against this damn man’s pythons for arms?  _ He asked himself as Daichi began to carry them up the stairs.

“Nope.”

“Dai, you can’t carry me up the stairs!”

“You better lower your voice before you wake up Tobio,” the taller man teased.

Suga obliged, but continued to protest in a harsh whisper. “Put me down!”

“Watch your head,” the deep voice offered as a piece of advice, ignoring Suga’s pleas. Finally, he gave in and simply slumped, falling lax in those big arms. Though once they broached the top of the steps, Suga realized he had the  _ perfect  _ angle to do something just a bit… well, Suga. With both hands, he reached down and full-on groped the perfect globes of Daichi’s ass, eliciting the most satisfying yelp (tried, and failed, to muffle it) as he nearly tripped at the threshold to his bedroom. 

“Koushi!” he breathed with a chastising huff, though it was relatively easy to call his bluff given the good-natured quality of his laugh, kicking the door shut with his heel. The room was dark, only pale moonlight filtering in through the slanted gaps in the blinds as Daichi deposited Suga on top of the duvet, the blonde bouncing with an elated giggle of his own.

“So manly,” Suga purred, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly as he looked up at the larger man, Daichi now hovering over him, each of his large hands caging either side of Suga’s shoulders, their chests nearly touching. With a subtle move of his hand, Suga reached to start unzipping Daichi’s jacket, as the air suddenly became  _ too  _ warm, and the fleece material just felt like  _ too  _ much. 

Chocolate eyes stayed fixated, as if drinking in the slow drag of the zipper, the metal fasten coming undone sounding so very loud in Suga’s ears. It was likely only seconds, but it felt more like hours as they stayed there, locked in on one another, as if too frightened to make the next move.  _ I can’t ask him to kiss me again _ , the thought raced through Suga’s brain.  _ I can’t initiate it, I don’t want him to feel pressured _ .

“May I?” Daichi questioned suddenly, voice quiet, yet firm. There wasn’t a shred of doubt or insecurity written on his face now. When Suga nodded the affirmative, the brunette stood up, and motioned for Suga to sit up, too. The nurse obliged, and Daichi reached down to push the jacket off of his shoulders, each hand working in tandem until the sleeves fell down lean arms, fabric gathering at his wrists. Suga pulled them out then, and in a slow flourish, Daichi threw the jacket, the garment disappearing somewhere in the dark, to some anonymous corner of the room.

“Suga,” he seemed to purr, his usually deep voice taking on a gravel-like quality, dripping with anticipation and need. Suga could swear he had never heard a more beautiful, illicit sound.

“Yes?” the blonde replied, suddenly angry at himself for how small his own voice sounded in comparison, a bit shaky, as if it was stumbling about on waning legs. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?” The hesitation was back but in a much smaller capacity. Could Daichi read his body language that well? Did he see how absolutely shook up Suga was, that he was nervous, yet so very eager, too? It was only then that he realized he was trembling, the slight tremors almost unnoticeable in the dark.

“Yes.” And before the one-syllable word even had time to manifest in the feverish air, before it could hang too long on an expectant note, Daichi’s mouth found his once more. 

Kissing Daichi was lively, like every bone in his body was on fire, heated and aching and needy. His hands loved to touch, always gentle and earnest, as if they were made to worship. And now, they were finally reaching uncharted territory as they slipped underneath his shirt, tracing over the faint lines of his wiry abs, fingers spreading and outlining svelte hips, and then his toned back. 

Enamored and drunk on their fevered exchange, Suga reciprocated, unable to stifle a moan as he roamed a body that had to be absolutely fucking  _ photoshopped _ to feel that good. It was like Daichi was pulled from the cover of a Men’s Health magazine, his abs chiseled and perfect, his chest defined and his  _ back, fucking Christ _ . He could have whimpered at the feel of it. 

Maybe he did for real, because in the next moment, Daichi pulled away, a bit breathless, his tan cheeks reddened, apparent even in the low light. “Did I hurt you? Is this too much?” He sounded panicked, his words losing some of the confidence it had garnered before. He kept one hand cupped behind Suga’s head while the other rested on the bedspread, his large frame still situated between the blonde’s knees.

“No, it was--” Suga started, then turned his head, pressing a shy hand to his lips, slightly swollen and slick with spit. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made that noise.”

“If I hurt you, I--”

Suga couldn’t sit there and listen to that mindless, silly guilt. “No!” he said, shaking his head firmly. “I’m just a bit embarrassed is all.”

Daichi stood up at that revelation, his dark brows curiously shooting higher on his forehead. “So…” he kept his voice low, “does that mean you liked it?”

“Pfft,” Suga giggled, the flush still latched to his face. “I think it's pretty obvious I like it.”

“How--” but Daichi’s question died in his throat as he realized that Suga’s skin-tight pants were doing little to hide his enjoyment, though the nurse was relieved to see Daichi in a similar state of arousal. He flushed only a deeper shade of red as he turned and coughed into his hand. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

The giggles showed no sign of stopping. How could this grown, beefcake of a man be such a gentle soul with a timid demeanor? It was as if Daichi’s whole existence centered around being considerate, though never taking into account that perhaps, he had nothing to actually be sorry for. “What on earth do you keep apologizing for?” Suga asked, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at his love interest, who now lingered at the edge of the mattress. 

“I, uh…” He ran his hands through his short hair and offered a soft chuckle. “I guess I really don’t know.”

“Why don’t we call it a night?” Suga suggested, reaching for the crook of Daichi’s elbow and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He kept his voice soft and soothing, intent on restoring Daichi’s confidence. Because Suga was absolutely, beyond the shadow of a doubt, over the moon about the fact that they were so attracted to each other that their bodies responded simply to heavy kissing and petting. In his opinion, it was a miraculous thing to find a connection like that. However, there were things that just couldn’t be forced, and needed time to make comfortable. Daichi had revealed a lot to Suga today, and it was understandable that he seemed a bit overwhelmed.

“Are you sure?” Daichi questioned, sounding both relieved and disappointed, like he was conflicted.

“Sure,” Suga said, holding out his arms, just like he had done at the kitchen island, and like before, Daichi’s embrace engulfed him. The wild pounding of the young dad’s heart was noticeable when they were pressed together like this, but Suga found it awfully comforting: he was falling in love with a man who was so very alive, and sincere, and completely genuine. A nimble left hand curled through the fine, dark hairs of the taller man’s nape. “I just can’t wait to fall asleep with you.”

And like a fan to a flame, the overwhelming affection rolled through Suga when the brunette rumbled, low in his chest, “and I can’t wait to hold you like this all night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Volleyball dorks in love. That's it, that's the story. *sobs into hands*
> 
> This note is short because I just want to say THANK YOU so much, especially to my friends bbyblake and umicrunch for being such wonderful soundboards for my brain rot. Love both of you gals!! And to all my readers who take the time to comment, or hit the kudos button, or bookmark, or recommend this fic on Twitter and Tumblr and Tiktok, y'all are the real MVPs. I am BLESSED!!
> 
> Okay, seriously, I have a whole Attack on Titan fandom waiting patiently for an update on another fic, but I couldn't wait to get this chapter out!! Love you, thank you, be safe and well!! 
> 
> Next time: boyfriends?


	16. Bedhead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 800 kudos? Is this real life?!
> 
> So much love to you all! Please enjoy this chapter. I didn't expect to bring you an update this early, but I got to typing yesterday and hammered out 5k words in a matter of a few hours. The pads of my fingers are literally on fire from the friction. See ya nerds at the bottom for more notes! (Do I ever shut up?!)

Daichi didn’t sleep much that night, not really. How could he? It’s not like he had much prior experience with the world’s most beautiful creature curled up on his chest, which was exactly what was happening now. Suga’s head was resting in the center of Daichi’s broad chest, one arm strewn across the brunette’s midsection, the other curled under his shoulder. 

It was still early, the blueish gray light filtering through the bedroom’s curtains set a tone for the whole affair- dream-like, peaceful, surreal. Ash gray hair fell over Suga’s pale forehead, his honey orbs sealed away behind still eyelids, the fan of his long, pewter lashes resting against high cheekbones, clinging onto a slight blush in his slumber. He was a portrait of beauty. Neither Helen of Troy, nor Bathsheba, nor even the wife of Zeus himself, Hera, could hold a candle to Koushi at this very moment. 

Last night, after their heated affair (heated, in Daichi’s very humble opinion), Suga dressed in one of Daichi’s college football shirts, and it just about made his heart explode. It was a bit too big, because of course it was, and now it was falling off of his shoulder. He  _ insisted  _ that he didn’t need pants: ‘they’ll just be too big and fall down anyway, Daichi. Besides, we’re both dudes. Where’s the harm in sleeping in my boxers?’

_ A lot of fucking harm, apparently.  _ Because now those long, toned legs were intertwined with Daich’s. They were smooth, graceful, and absolutely fucking  _ bare _ , not to mention, there wasn’t one iota of stitching that separated the two men, at least as far as the leg department went. Suga slept peacefully, with one taut thigh wedged between Daichi’s much thicker ones. And he snoozed. He fucking  _ snoozed _ like a literal angel, with soft, whisper-like breaths and fluttering eyelashes, making the tiniest little jerking movements, as if he were lost in a dream.

Even though he was fully awake, this all did feel like a dream to Daichi. Never would he have imagined such a thing happening to him. Suga let him share, let him talk, and all the while, the blonde listened. He wasn’t simply waiting for his turn to speak, either. It was genuine, and their connection was tangible, something he could hold in his hands…  _ no, _ in his arms, exactly like this. 

They had kissed more last night after Daichi had awkwardly fumbled under the sheets, brain-rot in full swing once a half-naked Suga crawled in next to him. It was magical, slow, but still, just a bit burning, like a pot of boiled water left on simmer. Languid, easy, natural, as if they had kissed a million times before, yet still so energizing, like it was their first one all over again. It was completely different, the petite man pushed up against his chest, one hand curled around his bicep, slipping up under the cuff of his t-shirt, the other resting on his square hip, Suga’s fingers gently ghosting over the exposed expanse of tanned skin, the perpetual color a gift from a lifetime spent beneath the California sun. Daichi allowed himself the sheer indulgence that was simply touching that soft, silk hair while they kissed. That was enough, for now. Having been touch-starved the last five years (apart from the familial affection from his son and best friend), even the most minimal brushes of skin felt overwhelming. Koushi was a hurricane battering a desert, oxygen filling famished lungs, a ray of sunlight in baffling darkness. 

They stayed like that, kissing until Koushi’s ministrations turned lazy and his hands stilled, slowly falling into slumber. Daichi soothed a hand over the small of the blonde’s back. “Go to sleep, baby,” he whispered, clinging to his own consciousness by a thread, the pet name slipping from his lips as natural as breathing. He adored the man in his arms, and he couldn’t wait to learn more, find out more, feel connected to every piece that was Koushi Sugawara. If the young nurse noticed the term of endearment, he didn’t react, only curling closer into Daichi. 

Daichi had been tired, no doubt about that. Between the busy work week, the anxiety for their outing, and taking Tobio to the game, he was plum exhausted. However, his heart and his brain would not still, despite the heaviness behind his eyes and the satiated vibrating in his bones. Suga smelled so good, tasted so good, felt so good. It was a lackluster description of such a flawless and sublime creature, Daichi knew that much. But it was all the adjectives his murky frontal lobe would allot at that given moment. However, even if he had the whole thesaurus at his disposal and found every word synonymous for ‘perfect’ or ‘angelic’, it still wouldn’t be enough to describe this man.

_ I’m falling in love with him. _

It was probably around 4 a.m. when this thought hit him like a freight train, the very idea was both freeing and drastically worrying, making him feel as though his heart had been tied to four horses, and those four horses had been commanded to run in different directions, splitting him wide open, the entrails of his innermost insecurities and passions laid bare and red, turning the dirt beneath his feet to cumbersome mud.

_ I’m falling in love with someone who isn’t Yui. _

Was this okay? Was this all alright? She said it was what she wanted, and she told Kuroo it was what she wanted for Daichi. She could lie to her husband (in the most innocent way, of course. She could do it so easily, if it spared his feelings or if she thought it protected him.) But she couldn’t fake it with Kuroo. The cat-like man had sharp eyes and even sharper ears: nothing got past him. He also possessed some sort of supernatural quality to read those around him, a soothsayer wrapped in the body of a chronic bedhead. So if Yui told Kuroo that she wanted nothing more than for her husband to be happy, it must be true.

So then why did he feel so guilty? Why was this so hard on him? Did he really deserve to be happy? That voice came more often these days, hungry and gnawing. The more Daichi chased happiness, the tighter guilt ran at his heels, an ever-present reminder that left him staggered and breathless, drowning in the harsh reality that he killed his wife. 

Not in the way that would put him behind bars from a jury of his peers.

Not in the way that would earn him a profile on ‘60 Minutes’.

Not in the way that would label him a ‘murderer’ or ‘felon’.

This way was much worse. Had he been honest with her, or himself, for that matter, would things be different? He had sworn that he had made peace with it several years ago. After all, no good came from lingering. In fact, it was only maddening and disheartening. Guilt was toxic, a vile substance that polluted him, inside and out. And if there was one thing Tobio deserved, it was two parents. But because Daichi couldn’t give him that, he needed at least one whole,  _ healthy _ parent. Burning himself down just for the sake of quieting his conscience did little to aid those around him, and it did nothing for Tobio. 

_ She wouldn’t have had it any other way _ . Daichi tried to tell himself that. And he wouldn’t change anything either, because they had a son. A beautiful, kind, loving, smart, gentle son; a piece of him, a piece of her. Why couldn’t that be enough?

“Penny for your thoughts?” came the gentle murmur that tickled his neck, stirring him from his downward spiral. Daichi had almost forgotten about the sweet creature folded in his arms, the warmth of his body slowly lifting the fog that saturated his mind.

“Good morning,” Daichi whispered, avoiding the question, rolling so they could face one another. God, was Suga just perfect. Everything about him was something to marvel at, from the messy gray hair, to the little angel kiss housed at the corner of his eye, to the sleepy, yet heady expression he wore. A quiet smile traced his pink lips, making them look even more kissable in the young morning light. “Did you sleep alright?” As he asked that question, Daichi reached out to cup the side of Suga’s face that wasn’t pushed into a plush pillow, pressing his thumb to the apex of the blonde’s warm cheek. 

“Mhmm,” Suga hummed softly, bringing his hand to meet the one pressed to his face, nimble fingers curling slightly over Daichi’s. “Best I’ve slept in a very long time,” he revealed with an airy sigh; contented, yet laced with longing, all in the same breath. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” The brunette leaned closer, catching those pink lips in a chaste kiss. He layered them, peppered them on Suga's eager mouth, mapping them across his cheek, to his ear, and back to that signature angel kiss, all the while, teasing hands snaked around slender hips, pulling closer, leaving electricity in their wake. 

The blonde giggled, a giddy, heartening sound, bubbling and blooming from his chest, bringing the room to life. At the sheer melody of it, Daichi could feel those thoughts, those berating, invasive,  _ worthless  _ manifestations of self-doubt melting away, falling to broken, jagged shards. Suga had that power, and he hadn’t the faintest clue. He would never understand exactly the influence he held over Daichi. How kissing Suga made him breathless, his head drunk and dizzy and spinning. How Suga’s laughter felt like a life raft when he was drowning in a sea of his own uncertainty. 

“You’re doing it again.” The nurse’s voice held onto a tone of staggering duality. It was flirtatious and teasing while simultaneously undertoned with worry and genuine concern. It was present in his gaze as well, dripping like melted caramel from observing eyes. He was reading Daichi as if staring into his soul. It was bewildering and bewitching and just a bit breathtaking. 

Daichi didn’t blink, nor make a move to pull away. He was frozen beneath the intensity of that expectant look, anchored to the mattress by the comforting weight of Suga’s gorgeous legs, as well as the nimble hand curling around the broad nape of his neck. The brunette drew a long breath, never breaking eye contact, focused on the rise and fall of their connected chests. “What am I doing?” Daichi inquired finally, the question a last-ditch effort of avoidance. He needed to hide it from Suga just a bit longer. There was too much to explain: the remorse, the identity struggle, the guilt he felt in the very catacombs of his bones, hollowed in next to spongy marrow. He needed Suga to believe that he was good just a bit longer, to cling to this unfettered bliss just a while more. He would be delaying the inevitable, he knew, but that was okay. He could live with regret - he had so far.

“You must live inside your mind,” Suga whispered sagely, eyes continuing to dissect, to assess, learning and memorizing. “I can hear the gears turning from here, Daichi.” He leaned closer then, their noses just a fraction of an inch from touching. “You don’t have to take up residence there.”

Twin, dark brows furrowed above even darker eyes as Daichi scrunched his face in mild confusion.

“You brain, Dai,” Suga explained with a playful tap to the young dad’s temple. “You don’t have to live there alone, not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t?” he questioned, releasing a heavy breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. It left his lungs in a hurried puff of air. One might even confuse it for a sigh of relief. 

“Of course you don’t,” Koushi nodded, the corners of his sultry mouth pulling into the sweetest of smiles. “You can tell me about it, whatever it is that left you so restless.”

Daichi blinked at the smaller man’s proposition. Sure, he  _ could  _ open up, spill out his guts, ruin this whole thing before it ever had a chance to leave the ground. Suga had already endured so much though, listened so intently, so patiently. He had proven himself a kind-hearted soul and a good listener, that was true. He would understand, wouldn’t he? 

The hesitation came from the fact that their relationship was built on a sand foundation, waiting for a wild wave to wash it away. They didn’t have a title, nor did they make any lasting physical connection yet. While Daichi felt an animalistic sense of urgency to tie himself to this man, he also felt an overwhelming need to pump the brakes. Conflict created a burdening miasma, clotting in his circulatory system, sending his thoughts reeling once again.

“I…” he started, but trailed off, closing his eyes and choking on his resistance, trying to steady the multitude of sentiments ricocheting in his skull. 

“Take a deep breath,” Suga coached him, his voice as calm and reassuring as ever, smooth and kind. Daichi obliged - in, then out. It was a simple motion, but it was everything he needed.

It took a few of those before Daichi opened his eyes once again, meeting Suga’s gaze head-on. “I really like you, Koushi,” he confessed, words rolling from his tongue, heavy and honest. “Like, a lot a lot. You are stunning and kind, and so sweet. I--” the young dad chuckled then, a raw vulnerability to the sound, “I think you’re hands down, the most beautiful man I have ever set eyes on and I am totally fucking kicking myself right now because I am basically a coward for not making more of a move and I don’t want to lose you. Because I feel like you’re going to slip through my fingers waiting on me to sort all this shit out in my head and it's a disaster up there, really. You don’t even want to know some of the shit I think about. If you heard it, you would probably think I’m--”

A searing kiss silenced him, sealing away any further ramblings behind locked lips. Suga’s sweet scent invaded his lungs once again, soothing his roaring heart and tumultuous line of thinking. When the blonde finally pulled away, his effervescent taste lingered, and Daichi was unable to govern the smile splitting his face. Suga smiled, too, the action clearly contagious. “You’re an idiot,” the nurse admonished with a playful click of his tongue.

Daichi blinked. “I am?”

“Of course you are. Because I really like you too, Daichi.”

“You do?”

Suga crinkled his nose, in turn, causing the corner of his wide eyes to fold too, making the most adorable face Daichi had ever had the good fortune to witness. “Yes, of course, I do.”

Before the adrenaline and the moment were lost, Daichi forced the words out in a single courageous act of (stupidity? probably). “Suga, will you be my--”

“DADDY!” 

The breakneck pace in which Daichi sat up in bed would probably set a world record if such a world record existed. He wasn’t shirtless, and neither was Suga, but for some reason, instinct told him to pull the duvet up to his chin, which caused him to punch himself square in the face. In a flurry of giggles, Suga sat up, too, pressing a concerned, albeit, amused, hand to Daichi’s forehead. Tobio strolled in, making his entrance very much known as he flopped right on his dad’s lap, all unruly bedhead and rocketship PJs. 

“Good morning everyone! Hi, Nurse Suga! Hi, daddy!” 

Rubbing his assaulted eye socket with one hand, he held out the free one toward his son. However, Tobio paid it no mind as he crashed into his father’s chest, engulfing him in a big bear hug. “Daddy, I had a dream last night about the dancers! I was on a dance team, too, and I could do all the kick things they did and I swirled around and it was so much fun!”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Daichi said, patting his son on the back, doing his damndest to fight off the fuzzy white gathering in his field of vision.

“Yeah it was so freaking cool, let me show you!” He jumped up then, standing at the foot of the bed, a very entertained Suga smiling broadly from his side of the bed. Even though he felt mildly concussed (seriously, he had no idea he packed a punch like that), he was also extremely warmed at the domesticity of it all: Tobio, reenacting a kick and twirl combo that looked starkly close to the ones the high school team performed just twelve hours ago paired with Suga’s bemused and wide-eyed wonderment at the little boy, the master suite alive with early morning light and the cacophony of laughter from two of the most perfect creatures in existence. Like Suga’s homemade soup, it stuck to his ribs and pooled in his stomach. 

It felt exactly like home.

///

“Nurse Suga, did you see that?” Tobio asked, now breathless at the foot of the bed, looking just a moment away from collapsing into a breathless heap.

“I did, buddy, it was so cool! Maybe you should ask Too--, uh, Mr. Iwaizumi if he has some recommendations for gymnastics or a cheer coach the next time you see him at school,” Suga suggested, hoping it was helpful and not overstepping any boundaries. From beside him, Daichi looked pretty worse for wear, having basically given himself a black eye in a moment of sheer, unadulterated embarrassment. In that instant, the young nurse didn’t know which Sawamura boy was cuter.

“Oh, that would be so cool! What do you think daddy?” The dark-haired boy was back in his father’s bruised face, overly-excited, clearly having slept well from all the excitement from the game. His deep blue eyes sparkled, and he looked at his father as if the broad-set man hung the stars.

Suga didn’t doubt that he truly did.

“I think we should talk about it after breakfast,” Daichi said calmly, clearly a master at his dad voice. It was placating enough to appease the young boy, while still maintaining a touch of authority, something that said, ‘ _ I basically just decked myself, give dad a second to make sure he can still count how many fingers he has _ .’

“Okay, daddy!” Tobio agreed with a quick nodding, turning his attention to the new addition in their midst. “Nurse Suga, did you and dad have fun on your sleepover?” Shamefully, the thoughts  _ you have no idea, kid _ , crossed his mind, but before he could give a real answer, Tobio asked a second, “and do you want to stay for breakfast?”

Suga glanced at Daichi, who gave a pained smile (from the pain, Suga surmised), though his only open eye sparkled with hope. “Sure, I can stay, if your dad thinks it’s alright.”

Tobio whipped his head back around to face his dad. “Of course, Suga can stay for breakfast. But first, you need to go brush your teeth. Then you may head downstairs and watch TV and we’ll be there in just a moment.”

“Can I watch Paw Patrol?” Tobio asked, raising his dark little eyebrows high on his head.

With a begrudging sigh, Daichi gave the okay. “Yes, you can watch Paw Patrol.”

Not needing any more information, the six-year-old jumped from the king-size bed, pattered across the hardwood floor, and exited the room in a fashion akin to that of the Tasmanian Devil. Daichi exhaled and collapsed back against his pillow, hand still on his injured eye.

“You’re a smooth criminal there, Daichi.”

A heavy groan left parted lips. “Please just smother me with this pillow.”

“Oh, but then who is going to watch Paw Patrol?”

Daichi managed a strained laugh. “I think you can manage.”

Suga blinked, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, but I haven’t the faintest clue about the show’s storyline. I’m afraid I’ll get lost in such a complicated and labyrinthine plot.” 

“A team of puppies work together to rescue other critters in distress, I think you can keep up.”

“I don’t think so, you seem to be a pro.”

“It’s not bad,” Daichi gave a dismissive shrug. “It’s no Dora.”

“Those are big shoes to fill.”

“Boots.” There was a low cough. “You could say those are big  _ Boots _ to fill.”

Suga paused, mouth hanging open. “ _ Daichi _ ,” he hissed, “what kind of dad joke was that?!”

The man in question giggled - an honest to god _giggle_ \- “give me a break, I basically clocked myself.”

The blonde snorted, reaching over to run his fingers through that auburn hair. “Yeah, yeah you did.”

“I was so not cool,” he admitted defeatedly. 

“I think you would look kinda sexy with a black eye.”

Daichi perked up at this. “Yeah?”

Leaning forward so their noses brushed, Suga whispered, “how about I kiss it and make it better?” Suga didn’t wait for a reply before he pushed Daichi’s hand aside and kissed his swelling eye.

“I think my lips hurt, too.”

Suga laughed and obliged, never one to leave a patient in such a state of disarray.

\-------

“What are Chase and the gang up to today?” Daichi called from the kitchen island, where he stood mixing waffle batter. After sharing a flirtatious few kisses and Suga administering first aid (was there anything sexier than a hot nurse in nothing but boxer briefs and one of Daichi’s oversized t-shirt bending over him to care for his hurt face while Daichi sat on the edge of the tub? Short answer: no. Long answer: absolutely fucking not.), the pair got dressed in more family-appropriate attire and joined the pajama-clad boy on the main floor. He had his sippy cup of milk in his lap, watching his favorite show, dark hair mushed on his head, happy as a clam. 

“They’re saving a kitty from a tree during a rainstorm!” Tobio hollered over his shoulder, not bothering to remove his gaze from the TV. “Chase is flying a helicopter.”

Suga took a sip of his coffee mug that had a watermelon hand-painted on the side of it (a gift from Kuroo in reference to the fact that Daichi could, more than likely, squish the green gourd between his legs had he ever tried, but the memento gave his best friend a chuckle all the same - ‘ _ let us mourn what could have been, Sawamura.’ _ ) and watched the TV idly from his spot beside Daichi. 

“It seems irresponsible to let a dog steer a helicopter through a rainstorm,” Suga hummed over the lip of the ceramic cup. 

Daichi laughed and shook his head. Sometimes, Suga’s humor really got him. “Yeah, well, you know how it is - desperate times, desperate measures and what have you.”

The chuckling continued as Daichi poured the batter into the waffle maker, the sweet, satisfactory smell of it rising into the open-concept kitchen. It all felt so natural, almost innate, having the nurse there. Waking up in his bed, teasing him with both sly kisses and snarky words, his infectious laughter permeating the air in their kitchen - these events were an anomaly, something that had never occurred before, but something told Daichi that this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. Perhaps it was that glimmer of hope that existed in his chest, ready to blossom into something fragrant and bright, that allowed him to feel as though this was going to be permanent, a common occurrence. And god, did he hope with every fiber of his being. 

“How can I help?” the angel asked, pulling Daichi from his reverie. The first waffle was just about done. 

“Can you grab the syrup from the pantry?” he requested. “Also, grab the plates down from the cabinet? They’re to the right of the sink.”

“Roger-roger,” the blonde said, imitating a computerized voice that eerily reminded Daichi of a certain robot army from Star Wars, but he didn’t bring it up. He had already made himself out to be enough of a dork for one morning, he didn’t need to add to it.

Suga made quick work of his task, returning with three maroon plates and a bottle of syrup. The silverware drawer was just to Daichi’s right, so he fished out three forks and three butter knives.

“Come get your breakfast, little man!” That was all it took to pry Tobio away from his precious Paw Patrol as he leaped off the sofa and padded into the kitchen to climb up on the bar stool. Usually, the duo ate all their meals side by side seated at the kitchen island. 

“Smells good, daddy! Is Nurse Suga cooking?” 

Daichi scoffed while Suga snickered. “Why are you asking that?”

Tobio shrugged before administering the greatest blow to Daichi’s pride to date. “I dunno, because it smelled good?”

Umber eyes blew wide at the underlying burn of his son’s words. “What, you’re telling me that the only way it would smell good was if Suga cooked it?”

The blonde was in hysterics now, clutching the counter as he doubled over in laughter. Tobio only blinked innocently, as if was completely confused by what was so dang funny. “I mean, maybe?”

Tobio’s question was met with a furrowed brow and pursed lips, Daichi clearly pouting. “He’s cooked you one meal, son! One! I have cooked all the meals for your entire lifetime!” Tobio kept giggling, clearly finding his handiwork and uncouth words to be quite hilarious. “You know what, no waffle for Tobes.” As the little boy’s giggles turned to a whine, Daichi handed the plated breakfast food to his date. “You want in on this, Suga?”

“ _ Daddy! _ ” came the completely scandalized cry, the little boy slapping his hands on the countertop. “I take it back! I take it all back!”

Daichi kept a firm grasp on the plate while eyeing his sweet, darling, only child, his nose upturned in suspicion. “Do you swear?”

“I swear, I swear!” Desperation climbed through his little pleas as he made those big, gorgeous eyes the size of saucers. Tobio was good at that and had always been good at that. He was the definition of ‘laying it on thick’. Yui could do it, too, and despite the difference in the color of their irises, it was almost spooky how identical their eyes could look. Always so expressive and filled to the brim with a wild, untamable sincerity. Yes, that’s how he would always remember her, through the vivid blue of Tobio’s eyes.

“Cross your heart?”

“Hope to die!” He was being theatrical now, and the young dad couldn’t keep up his charade. “Please, dad!” 

Unable to keep teasing his son, Daichi chuckled and lowered the plate back down. “Alright, alright, no need to be extra about it,” he chided gently as he rolled his eyes with a bit of mirth. Suga slid over the syrup, a sly, humored smile painted on his lips. Daichi wanted to bend over and kiss them. But he swallowed that desire and poured another round of batter into the waffle maker.

“Mmm! Best waffles ever, daddy!” The black-haired boy declared, rubbing his stomach melodramatically, his cheeks puffed and filled with his breakfast.

“Yeah, yeah, you suck up,” Daichi dismissed with a wave of his hand, though the grin never faded from his face.

Tobio babbled on about Paw Patrol while Daichi made the rest of their breakfasts, Suga asking questions about the characters, really getting into it. And Tobio returned the enthusiasm, recounting a particular episode where one of the dogs saved a train of people from a rock slide. Suga gasped energetically at all the right parts, widening his eyes in shock and surprise, whenever the occasion called. It passed the time and allowed for Daichi to finish the last of the waffles uninterrupted. 

There were only two stools at the breakfast bar, and Daichi told Suga to sit next to his son - he would stand and lean against the counter. Sure, they could make it over the dining table, but there was something a little more intimate about leaning into Suga’s space, the sticky, sweet aroma of maple syrup, and cinnamon topping wafting between them, better than any scented candle. He had an up-close view to that glorious cupid’s bow of his top lip, hand-chiseled by God himself. Daichi lost track of their conversation, Suga and Tobio’s. He just knew there was an easy familiarity to it, like breathing. 

Tobio had never gravitated toward anyone, other than Kuroo, of course, as he did with Suga. Just seven weeks ago, Tobio was starting school in a new state, far away from the ocean, and his grandmother, and his beloved Uncle ‘Roo. Honestly, the young dad had no idea what he was getting the Sawamura family into by uprooting, but thus far, it was proving to be a good choice.

Would Tobio have opened up like this to anyone else? Sure, he had a personality, and he showed it off to family. Though now, it was becoming more and more abundantly clear, displaying it even to strangers. He was showing enthusiasm, engagement, a true interest in the world around him. Was it an age thing, or something else? Daichi was pretty sure his parenting style hadn’t changed much. He gnawed on a piece of waffle and contemplated that. Was it his new friend, Shoyou? Was it his teacher, Ms. Yachi? 

A sharp elbow caught him in the ribs and Daichi’s attention snapped back to the breakfast table. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Suga cleared his throat and his cheeks were definitely not the same shade of pink they had been before. He seemed to have taken on a full-body flush, embarrassed for some mystery reason. “I think Tobio has a question for you--” he coughed again, clearing his throat, “us.”

A curious eyebrow arched toward his hairline. “Oh? What is your question?”

Tobio lowered his fork and folded his hands over the dark countertop, his demeanor shifting to that of a serious businessman. If Daichi didn’t know better, his young son was channeling Hajime right before he entered a loan negotiation.  _ Tobio as a loan investor- God bless his future clients _ , he couldn’t help but think regarding his tenacious child. 

“What’s up, bud?”

“Are you and Nurse Suga boyfriends?” He asked it point-blank, as straightforward and blunt as Daichi would expect from any six-year-old. Daichi was very clear that Tobio was free to ask his dad anything. No question was off-limits, and Daichi would always do his very best to explain things as honestly as possible. Communication was important, especially in their changing landscape. Daichi needed his son to be outspoken about any concerns or misgivings he had if the brunette dad had a chance in hell of making the whole single-parent thing work. 

“Umm--” Daichi began, stealing a sideways glance at Suga, the coral color reddening his face all the more obvious. Had it been under a different circumstance, Daichi would have surely lost himself at just how beautiful Suga’s pale skin looked, all pinkened like that, a true example of artistry next to his ashen hair. “I, uh--, why do you ask that?” Daichi settled on finally. He was going to officially ask Suga this morning before they were interrupted, but he hadn’t had the chance again.

“You hold hands and kiss. And Nurse Suga stays the night and you stayed the night at Nurse Suga’s. And you always make cartoon eyes at each other.” He batted his own dark lashes for emphasis, clearly demonstrating his best impression of ‘cartoon eyes’. Okay, this kid made a lot of fair points.

“Do you know what being boyfriends mean?” Daichi asked hesitantly. 

“Duh, dad. It’s two boys who like each other a lot.” He gave a simple shrug. 

“What would you think if daddy and Nurse Suga were boyfriends? Would that make you happy?” They were navigating into a territory that made Daichi’s chest constrict with panic, but Suga sat directly at his side, looking timid, but hopeful. 

Tobio thought a minute, tapping his little fingers earnestly on the countertop, eyes wandering down to his empty plate. Daichi took the quick break to make eye contact with Suga, the blonde nurse doing his damndest to govern the wide grin threatening to split his face. 

“I think if that means I got to see more of Nurse Suga, then that would be nice,” he answered finally, giving a firm nod of his head. “And it would make me happy to see you happy, daddy.”

A sob threatened to rack through his body at the sincerity of his son’s candor. Tobio chose those words carefully, and the little boy knew that honesty with his father was always the best policy. “

“Well, then I guess there’s one thing I have left to do then, Tobes.”

Tobio tilted his head to the side. “What’s that, daddy?”

The brunette reached across the counter and captured one of Suga’s trembling hands in his. His body language said he was nervous, but the warmth in his eyes was malleable and unmistakable. It was now or never for the older Sawamura man, and he didn’t want to delay it any longer. Guilt could stay at his heels all it wanted because Suga was going to give him wings to fly - he could feel it in his very soul. 

“Koushi?” Daichi asked carefully, the blonde’s first name weighted on his tongue.

“Yes, Daichi?” Suga asked, playing along, whole demeanor sparkling, yet vibrating with anticipation. 

“Would you like to be my boyfriend?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” They sealed it with a chaste kiss that tasted like cinnamon and syrup and the start of something precious, the gesture of affection earning them a squeal of delight from the brunette boy at the counter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Daichi made a dad joke about Dora the Explorer's best friend being named Boots. We all saw him do it. What a DAD. And punched himself in the face. Classic.
> 
> So they're boyfriends now and the fun really begins! Clearly, we still have a long ways to go and them being hashtag official is just the beginning. I hope this chapter brought you a lot of smiles and a few laughs!! You guys have left me some of the most amazing comments and EIGHT HUNDRED KUDOS?! WHAT?! I am seriously so floored. You all are a BLESSING.
> 
> I meant to share this last time, but I dressed up as Suga for Halloween and my husband was Bokuto. We even had two teens come to the door dressed as Kags and Hinata, and once they saw me they yelled "SUGA MAMA!" It was the best thing ever! Check us out [here](https://photogiraffe77.tumblr.com/post/633534924314624000/happy-halloween-from-me-and-my-husband-your)! We are not professional cos-players, just wanted to have some fun for our trick-or-treaters. 
> 
> Last but not least, if you have NOT yet subscribed to the "Second Chance Side Stories" fic, you may want to, especially if you want a little KuroKen update from our favorite rooster-haired boy. :) ~hinty hint hint
> 
> Thank you again!! Lots and lots of love to you all!! Be safe and well!! 
> 
> Next time: basketball
> 
>  **ALSO, MORE ART** [*HERE*](https://bbyblakeforthewin.tumblr.com/post/634778438893486080/bby-kagz-and-daichi-for-a-second-chance-by)! Check out the Daichi and baby Tobio duo from the homecoming game! Bbyblake, you have done it yet again!! Thank you sooo much!! You are so talented!


	17. Hajime Iwaizumi Does Not Fuck Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is 5.5k words of Hajime being a good friend. Enjoy.

The next few weeks flew by like some sort of fever dream, the end of quarter financials putting both Daichi and his boss through the metaphorical wringer. It all seemed like a tireless, infinite loop of number crunching, phone calls, meetings with the board, and filing. And dear god was there a lot of filing.

However, he was grateful for the reprieve he found in both his sweet, talented son and the magical, beautiful, Koushi Sugawara. Having the blonde nurse around was so natural like he was always meant to be there, breathing new life into the Sawamura home. A fall chill hit the air quite hard, at least in Daichi and Tobio’s west coast opinion, and Suga spoiled them with a variety of soups, homemade bread (the man made  _ homemade bread _ ), and perhaps the tastiest pumpkin muffins Daichi had ever eaten.

October was coming to a close, and Daichi had finally ironed out the details for the impending holiday season. He and Tobio would stay in Kansas City for Thanksgiving and start a new tradition, and then his folks (and Kuroo, of course), would fly out for Christmas, though Kuroo planned to stay through New Years. The young dad was hoping for a white Christmas for their first holiday in the midwest. Suga assured him that the odds were good. “Hell, at this rate, it might even snow before Halloween,” his boyfriend had added, and Daichi felt conflicted by this tidbit of information. Snow before Halloween? Just how cold would it get come winter?

_ Very _ , turns out was the answer. Much colder than San Francisco. On October the 6th, it ice rained. The next day, it was 72° and everyone was wearing shorts. The Midwest was proving to be much different than his home state. Suga explained with a laugh that the weather was just a bit temperamental and not to get attached to any one sort of season - it was bound to change, revolving through hot and cold so fast, it was difficult to keep track of what attire to wear from day-to-day. 

This resulted in an impromptu shopping trip to the local mall, where Daichi outfitted his son with long-sleeved waffle henleys, new hoodies, and even a pair of boots with a matching puffer jacket. Suga accompanied them on the trip, of course, sniggering all the while as the two Sawamura men lamented about how they were ill-prepared for the change in the climate. However, Tobio mentioned that he was excited because Shoyou told him there was a really cool hill they could go sledding with promises of ‘snow as high as your shoulders!’. Daichi figured this was an easy feat when you were as small as the tiny red-headed boy. 

Dates continued, and Daichi could feel himself falling more and more in love, though he dared not voice it, not even to his best friend on their weekly facetime. Kuroo was smart, though, and the knowing glint in his golden eyes was impossible to miss, even thru a phone screen. The brunette dad couldn’t help the way he gushed about his boyfriend, never growing tired of the newly acquired title. Suga was opening up to him and he was learning so much - the man’s favorite food (super spicy mapo tofu), though really, it was almost anything hot. He really liked Mexican food and even kept a tiny travel bottle of sriracha in his office when he felt like an extra kick. His birthday was in June, and the blonde was grateful that it always fell over the summer break. Last year, he hadn’t been able to do much to celebrate due to Hajime and Tooru’s wedding, but this year, for his 30th, he was hoping to do something special. Daichi kept that information in his back pocket.

They didn’t talk much else about Yui, as Daichi was too concerned with learning more about his love interest instead. Kuroo had offered him that piece of advice: now that you’ve gotten some (keyword:  _ some _ ) of the big stuff out of the way, try to have a little fun and worry about falling in love. Daichi tended to overthink things, which was relatively normal. Everything was new territory: their new lives, new job, new school, a new relationship. It wasn’t supposed to be perfect, but it damn sure could still be fun. At least that’s what his best friend reminded him.

So Suga and Daichi went on dates, utilizing Asahi and Noya a time or two to ensure the private, adult time. That included another trip to the steakhouse and yes, an action flick at the movie theater. Nothing moved past the passionate makeouts and exploratory kissing and heated, yet light, touching, choosing to have those at Suga’s apartment to avoid another black eye or  _ worse _ , Daichi shuddering at the thought of being discovered by his son in a compromising position with his school nurse. But it was amazing, to say the very least, though it was rapidly becoming more and more difficult to leave Suga’s arms or vice versa once date night was up, the man’s sweet taste still buzzing on his lips. 

Work was picking up, too, as they moved into the final quarter. It was always the most demanding time of the year - the home stretch that would make or break their fiscal year. Though they were sitting well with the majority of their clients and they had even gained or drastically built up their already-established accounts since Daichi joined, it was rightful for them to be concerned. Whoever the last DCFO was had made a mess of several accounts and did a poor job at bookkeeping, that much was painfully obvious. However, Hajime seemed very impressed with his work.

“You’re doing a great job, Sawamura,” the spiky-haired chief financial officer complimented his second-in-command one day in late October while they sat in Daichi’s office, pouring over the last of an account briefing. It was well after dinner time, and Daichi felt so blessed that Suga already was comfortable taking Tobio for a few hours so that the two accountants could get caught up on their surmounting workload. Their plans included going out for dinner and then helping Tobio finalize some details on his Halloween costume. Apparently, Suga could even sew, which was adorable, endearing, and somehow even sexy, all at the same time.

“Thank you, Hajime,” Daichi said with a nod, leaning back in his office chair and loosening in his pinstriped tie. “We’re a good team.” 

“You want any more of this?” Hajime asked, gesturing toward the pizza box sitting on the desk. Tooru had run it up to them a few hours ago, though Hajime insisted that they could have just paid for delivery. ‘ _ Pay for delivery, Iwa-chan? Not on my watch. I am cuter than any delivery boy, anyway!’ _

The taller of the two husbands hung around for just a moment, long enough to share a kiss with the darker brunette that was a little too steamy for Daichi’s eyes. Tooru was territorial, that much he could gather. If he didn’t already have Suga, Daichi would think it was absolutely disgusting how in love the married couple was.

Daichi reached for the last slice of pepperoni. “Thank you for dinner. Are you sure I can’t chip in for it?”

Hajime shook his head with a soft chuckle as he underlined some notes on his printout. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll steal the receipt from Tooru and submit it for reimbursement.”

“Only top tier for XLT Employees, huh?” he laughed, his superior giving an amused smirk at the comment.

“How are things with Suga?” 

The question caught Daichi off guard at first, and he was relieved that he was taking a bite of pizza in order to stall for time a bit. It shouldn’t be surprising, though, considering how close of friends they were. His boyfriend had mentioned rooming with the married couple all through college and even for a while after, serving as the best man to Tooru at their wedding. Though it was just barely a hint of a comment, Suga had even alluded to the fact that together, Hajime and Tooru had pulled him out of a pretty shitty situation. When asked to elaborate, Suga had waved it way citing,  _ ‘it doesn’t really matter, not any more _ ’, though something in those honey eyes told Daichi that wasn’t entirely true. But Daichi wasn’t the type to push, not when he still had some things he was holding onto as well. 

“They’re really good,” he said after swallowing his bite, cheeks suddenly feeling a bit warm at the mention of Suga. Hajime was a really nice guy. In fact, he was incredibly kind and considerate, but damn did he have a scary face and a scrutinizing gaze that was wildly intimidating. 

“Daichi, what do you say about a one-on-one basketball game?”

Okay, that wasn’t really a question he was expecting, either, as it seemed like a total change of subject. “Umm, sure. When?”

“This weekend. I usually play with Mattsun and Maki at the Y, but they’re on a couples’ retreat or some shit.” Daichi had met Dr. Issei Matsukawa under Suga’s recommendation, and he was now Tobio’s pediatrician. They had gone for a check-up a few weeks ago. Mattsun was tall, dark-haired, and always wore a sleepy look. But he was great with kids and was clearly very good at his job, giving the 6-year-old a clean bill of health as well as a strawberry sucker. 

“Yeah, I can do that. I don’t have a Y membership though.”

“Sure you do, it’s a company perk. HR should have sent you your family pass packet when you transferred.” Daichi shook his head - he never received any paperwork. “No worries, I’ll get it squared away. They have daycare and indoor activities for the kids. What do you say to a little one-on-one?” 

“Didn’t you play in college?” The young dad couldn’t help but ask. There was something mischievous and almost…  _ dark _ squared away in that emerald gaze.

A cocky, confident grin pulled at the corner of his rugged features. “Sure did.”

\------------

Turns out, Tobio was excited to go to the Y because as fate would have it, his friend Shoyou went there every Saturday morning with his mom, who took a spin cycling class. Daichi was relieved to hear that Tobio would have a familiar playmate while he and his boss went and played basketball. 

“Don’t worry about Tobi, Mr. Sawamura!” Shoyou had assured his friend’s dad, throwing his little arm around Tobio’s much taller shoulders. “We’re gonna have so much fun together! My friends Chikara and Ryu are here, too!” The redhead pointed behind him where two brunette children stood by a LEGO tower, one with a shaved head and one with straight hair. They seemed fully absorbed into their wavering monstrosity.  _ None of these children are going to be architects _ , Daichi couldn’t help but think with a rueful smile. 

Placing a firm hand on his son’s bicep, he asked, “Are you sure you’re going to be alright while I play basketball with Mr. Hajime?” 

Tobio nodded, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “We’ll be alright, daddy,” he assured his father. With that, Shoyou latched onto Tobio’s hand and began leading him back toward the building bricks. Daichi couldn't keep the swell in his heart at bay when he realized that the two young boys had even interlaced their fingers.

“Hi guys, this is my best friend, Tobio Sawamura,” he overheard the ginger-haired boy explain. “Tobio, this is Ryu and Chikara. We play LEGOs while our moms workout together.”

Deciding not to linger much longer, especially now that Tobio was quite literally in good hands, he turned back toward the door and to the main part of the fitness center. Hajime had kept to his word and the next day, he gave Daichi all the paperwork he needed to complete his membership for the Y. It came with a large packet which included information on childcare and even classes that Tobio could take. Daichi was more than delighted to see that beginner’s dance was on the list and made a mental note to ask Tooru about the instructor before the sign-up deadline. 

But for now, he needed to focus on basketball. Obviously, they both had been college athletes, though Daichi’s time on the field had been cut short due to his circumstances and they certainly weren’t playing football. They were in Hajime’s element and quite literally in his court. Daichi hoisted up his duffel bag a little higher over his shoulder as he followed the signs that read ‘gymnasiums’, though the sounds of squeaking shoes and dribbling basketballs echoing through the hallway were inclinations enough that he was headed in the right direction.

“Yo, Sawamura!” Hajime called, appearing back the way Daichi had come, prompting the dad to turn around. It was at that moment that Daichi began to question if he really did have a type or if perhaps that he just hadn’t met the right beefcake prior to this. Alright, yes, he was very much attracted to and falling in love with Suga, and once glance at his boss in athletic gear wasn’t going to change that. He liked pretty boys and slender builds and full lips. But Hajime could have caused even the world’s straightest man to question his sexuality given the way he wore his athletic shorts riding dangerously low on his hips paired with an old Metallica t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing absolutely shredded pythons for arms, shrouded beneath tan skin.

Daichi felt his brain cycle through being attracted to the man, terrified of the man, and then, insanely jealous of the man. Finally, he landed on the latter option because his own arms have never once looked that god damn refined, no matter how hard he worked.

“Hey, what’s up?” Daichi called, finally remembering he needed to speak and not ogle his boss/friend/boyfriend’s other best friend.

“Ready to ball?” Hajime asked, flashing a devious smile. Oh yes, Daichi was going to straight-up get his ass handed to him, he could feel it in his bones. However, this realization definitely wasn’t going to stop him from trying or even shit-talking. He was a competitor, straight to his core.

“Are you?” he countered, a flash of teeth accompanying his smile.

“Yessir.” Hajime winked and propped open the door to the gym, ushering his friend inside. The CFO had reserved a half-court in advance - it was kind of a standing thing he did anyway, apparently. The pair made their way over to the benches to change shoes and Daichi needed to take his hoodie off. On the other half-court, a group of teenagers shot a basketball around, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

“So you play every Saturday, huh?” Daichi asked, sliding on his Nike hightops. Hajime was already dressed for the part, reaching down to touch his toes and stretch his legs. 

“Yep.” He stood up to full height once more, taking one toned arm and pulling it across his broad chest. “Tooru and Suga run together on Sundays so the boys and I play basketball and then go get a beer at the sports bar down the way and watch whatever game is on TV on Saturdays.” He switched arms. “It’s just sort of the routine.”

A little smirk found its way to Diachi’s lips. That was kind of endearing, having a standing date with ‘the guys’. “Did you play basketball with Mattsun and Maki in college then?”

Hajime shook his head. “Nah, they didn’t play in college, but we all went to school together. Mattsun was on the pre-med track so he was crazy busy and Makki was, funny enough, his roommate at the dorms. They kind of stuck to themselves, but we all ended up having some basic Public Speaking course together and sat at the same table. We just kinda bonded over the Lakers one day and that was it”

That actually sounded really nice - just having bros you could ball with. It made Daichi instantly think of Kuroo and just how much he was missed, a sudden sadness pulling at his heartstrings. Shaking off the bitterness, he finished lacing up his shoes. Just a few feet away, Hajime dribbled the ball around, effortlessly bouncing it between his legs, then behind his back before firing off a quick jump shot, the orange ball falling through the hoop in a quiet, yet pronounced, ‘swish’ of the net.

Yep, Daichi was screwed. Sure, he was an athlete and wasn’t out of shape by any means, and he enjoyed watching basketball on TV, but he was not a seasoned player like the man before him. Daichi rose to his feet and joined Hajime on the court, where the latter continued to make outside shots rain down to the basket, never once even bouncing around the rim.

“What position did you play?” If he had kept how intimidated he was out of his voice up to this point, well, he was definitely exposed now.

“I was mostly a shooting guard, but I could play point if the occasion called for it.” Hajime stepped toward the goal to fetch the ball, throwing it in Daichi’s direction. The young dad caught it and dribbled it a few times, trying to get warmed up to the sport once again. If he was being honest with himself, Kuroo was always much better at basketball when they were kids. Not only was his best friend tall, but he was lanky and quick, able to rebound and put up an honest game against their fellow neighborhood kids.

“I’m afraid I was only much of a football player,” Daichi admitted, releasing the ball with a flick of his wrist. The shot had power, making it to it’s intended vicinity, only to pop against the backboard and head in Hajime’s direction. With practiced ease, the darker brunette snatched it from the air before once again, dribbling it in between his legs.

“What position?”

“Tight end.” Umber eyes followed the gliding arc of the ball where it once again passed through the white net with a dignified flutter.

“Aren’t you a little short to be a tight end?” Hajime chuckled, bouncing the ball to Daichi.

“We all can’t be Rob Gronkowski,” Daichi countered with a chuckle, referencing the famous former Patriots player. “Aren’t you a little short to be a basketball player?”

Never missing a beat, Hajime snarked in return, “yeah, well, we all can’t be Dwayne Wade.” Finally making a practice shot through the rim, the DCFO smiled. It was a bit ugly, but it would do. “Ready to start keeping score?”

There was an antagonistic bass to Hajime’s voice when he posed that question, coupled with a carnal flare in his emerald eyes. Despite the pretense that this game was going to be a friendly one, Daichi couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on just below the surface, a lukewarm tension that Hajime was holding just beneath his broad shoulders and that opposing smile. 

It was decided that Daichi could have the ball first, Hajime chalking it up to good sportsmanlike conduct since he was ‘disadvantaged’. Normally, that sort of statement would have withered Daichi’s pride, but he was willing to eat a bit of humble pie and take any leg up he could get. The first person to 15 baskets would win. If someone fouled the other, they could shoot a free throw. After each made basket, they restarted at the three-point line. Pretty standard stuff.

Except there was nothing ‘standard’ about the way Hajime played. He was fast, lighter on his feet than a man of his bulk should account for, possessing a certain finesse, and an ability to read Daichi’s every move. Hajime was thick, no doubts about that, but Daichi still was just a bit broader. While he wasn’t as quick nor as graceful, he made up for it with sheer power. Once he was under the goal, the ball was pretty quick to find its way through the rim. Initially, his aim was lacking. However, it didn’t take long for his natural athleticism to shine through.

It was nearing the end of the game, and Hajime had four points on him, making the score 13 to 9. Graciously, the former college player among them allowed his subordinate a moment to catch his breath, Daichi wiping the building sweat from his brow with the hem of his compression top. “This game is a little closer than I thought.”

“Still getting your ass kicked.” Hajime lazily dribbled the ball at the top of the key, clearly not as fatigued as his opponent. 

“Not as bad as I thought I would.”

“We’ll see about that,” the darker brunette taunted with a mild click of his tongue, kissing his teeth mockingly. Daichi took the bait.

“Bring it,” he practically growled, narrowing his brown eyes to a cat-like point.

After a few more close calls, and a couple of trick shots that left Daichi’s mouth hanging open in both adoration and disbelief, Hajime won, the score ending at 15-12. The young dad wasn’t going to feel bad about losing, especially not to such an astute and seasoned player. Grabbing their water bottles and bags, the duo surrendered the court to a couple of extremely patient high school girls who seemed to have been enjoying the show if their snickering giggles and batting eyelashes was any sort of indication (Tobio would call them ‘cartoon eyes’.). Hajime gave an indignant snort at the scene and Daichi laughed. 

“We’re too old and too gay for that,” Daichi commented with a low chuckle as they made their way to the bleachers, taking a moment to cool down.

“You can say that again,” the other man scoffed, running a teal hand towel across his forehead. He breathed out a heavy sigh and leaned back into the polished wood. It was back again, whatever that weird tension had been from before. Daichi felt the need to comment on it, though was simultaneously afraid to bring it up. His boss seemed like a reserved person overall, a kind of quiet and collected individual. Though Daichi surmised that must be true, considering who he was married to. If there were two Toorus in one marriage... well, Daichi dreaded to spend too long on that thought.

“Thanks for the game,” the dad in the duo said instead, pulling his hoodie back over his head. A quick ‘any time’ was mumbled before a hush fell between them, Hajime’s gaze following the pick-up game on the opposite half-court closely where several college-aged guys were shooting around. There were three of them, simply laughing and passing the ball back and forth, not a care in the world on a late October Saturday.

“Has Suga talked about someone named Gavin with you?”

_ Gavin?  _ Daichi blinked, trying to recall if the name sounded even vaguely familiar. His boyfriend didn’t talk a lot about other people outside of the Iwazuimis. Sure, he had heard a few things about the school nurse’s parents, but that was about it. 

“No, he hasn’t.”

While his gaze never left the court in front of them, it was obvious Hajime’s thoughts were drifting somewhere else as his ruddy face took on an almost unreadable expression. “I have something I have to ask you, and I need you to answer me honestly.” Daichi felt his shoulders bristle. “Because trust me wholeheartedly that you want this question to come from me and not my spouse.”

Unable to do a damn thing about the lump now building in his throat, Daichi replied with a very meek, “okay.”

After a heavy sigh and quick brush of his hands through damp, spiky locks, Hajime turned toward him, broad shoulders square, green eyes fixed intently on the man beside him. “You can tell me to fuck off and that’s fine, but I am asking you as Koushi’s friend: is he an experiment or a novelty or something for you? Like, even a little?”

Deeply offended, Daichi furrowed his brows and drew backward, doing absolutely nothing to school the sneer that took to his mouth. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, I’m not going to pretend to even begin to understand what you went through regarding your wife. I wouldn’t dream of it, because if I ever lost Tooru, I would probably just find a way to join him on the other side, whatever that may be.” His tone had softened a bit, and his words oozed with so much sincerity, that Daichi felt inclined to believe him. “But there is something that is bothering Koushi, and he doesn’t have to say it for us to know. He might not act like it because hell, he came fluttering into the house to pick up Tooru for their run the day after you guys became official and practically vomited rainbows of joy.” 

Despite the tension between them, Daichi had to smirk at Hajime’s description of his boyfriend. That sounded about right because he was practically in the same position during his facetime call with Kuroo that evening after he asked.  _ “Jesus Christ, I thought I’d be old and gray before you sealed the deal,” _ Kuroo had teased him all while wearing the most pompous of grins, “ _ ‘bout time you asked him, Sawamura.” _

Hajime shifted a bit, folding his arms across his broad chest. “And it’s probably not my place to go into a shit ton of detail, but when we were all in college, Suga got really involved with a straight guy named Gavin. That fucker and I were on the basketball team together. A real rich, good-looking piece of shit.” He seemingly snarled at the recollection, disdain evident at the sheer mention of the mystery man’s name. “He told Suga that he was an exception for him. I think the guy was actually bisexual but his do-gooder Republic lawyer daddy would have a fucking conniption fit if that fact ever floated to the surface. So he dated Suga but treated him like shit, always making him feel inferior and was super fucking controlling, and that’s just scratching the surface of the bullshit he pulled.”

Daichi could feel the anger pooling in his chest, burning butane hot, liquifying his better judgment. Who did this to Suga? Such a kind, loving, beautiful soul was treated in such a way? Rage told him to find this man and dismember him as quickly as possible. 

“What happened?” Even Hajime seemed startled by the low ferocity present in Daichi’s question as twin brows raised slightly in surprise.

“Tooru is as perceptive as he is beautiful.” There was a brief pause before Hajime added, pawing at the back of his neck, “and please don’t tell him I said that.”

Daichi gave a nod in solidarity.

“My husband knows Suga quite well, and they were roommates at that time, while I still lived in the dorms. But Suga’s whole personality changed. He wasn’t himself, like, at all. And one day, we were all out at a club together and Tooru caught sight of Gavin getting physical with Suga, even snatching his wrist so hard, Tooru thought it was going to snap.” 

A devious, hungry hatred pulsed through Daichi’s veins upon learning that information. While he did his damndest to control the sheer animosity that tried to consume him, he knew it was a losing bet. Never would he understand the desire to control or use another human being. He saw enough of that shit with Sato, and he knew how it changed Yui, especially the first year that Daichi was at college.

“Easy, killer, you look like you’re gonna rip someone’s face off.”

Umber eyes darkened as he asked his next question. “Is this guy still around?”

Hajime shrugged. “Fuck if I know. But let me just say that both Tooru and Suga got a righteous hit off on him, though. Like, hard fucking core.” He shook his head, a small smile coming across pursed lips at the memory. “All I could do was watch.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Daichi asked suddenly as he tried to put the pieces together.

“I’m telling you because I don’t give a shit how you identify or what your sexuality is or anything, as long as you’re a good person and you take care of Suga, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Do you think I’m straight?” Daichi sat up a little at that, unwilling to take his eyes off of Hajime.

“Well, I was worried about it up until the point I saw you checking out my arms before the game, then the comment you made just now when those teenage girls were staring at us like we were Channing Tatum or some shit.”

“I--” but Daichi’s chance to deny and say that he totally wasn’t checking Hajime out was sent off with a quick wave and a teasing laugh.

“I fucked dudes before Tooru, and he did the same before me. I can’t even begin to understand what you’re going through or what Suga is going through. But I do know he won’t tell you this because he thinks it doesn’t matter.” Daichi cocked a brow at that, prompting Hajime to elaborate. “He doesn’t think an abusive boyfriend from eight years ago holds a candle to losing a wife and raising a kid alone.”

Leaning back into the bleachers behind him, Daichi scrubbed his hands over his face. The cacophony of squeaking athletic shoes accompanied by musical laughter and the shouts of the fellow gym patrons did little to lessen the blow that Hajime had just dealt him. It was a startling realization. Sure, Suga had literally admitted to dating a ‘shitty string of dudes’, but never once did he go into further detail. Did he really withhold that information because he believed that Daichi’s trauma was worse? That his past didn’t matter because it didn’t ‘stack up’? Was that the impression he gave his boyfriend? 

It made him sick to think about it. Here, this perfect human being had been listening so diligently to Daichi, never once making him feel bad about opening up about his issues. Yes, Daichi’s status as a widower and single parent was a heavy lift, no doubt about it. But surviving an abusive relationship and still being able to smile and love again on the other side? That was truly applause-worthy.

“I’m not…” Daichi began, but his words seemed lost on his lips. At first, he was angry with Hajime’s borderline insinuation. Now, however, it made total sense. He had openly admitted to Suga that this was his first relationship with a man, though he never took the time to explain  _ why _ . Under different circumstances, maybe Daichi wouldn’t owe someone that explanation. But after hearing a bit more about where Hajime’s concerns stemmed from, it was eye-opening. 

Hajime sat forward and put a comforting hand on the young dad’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Listen, it’s not my place to tell you this, I know. And I overstepped. Tooru wanted to say something to you about it, but I figured it would sound better coming from me. The only reason we even mentioned anything is because Suga won’t and I am not ever going to be a bystander to his abuse, or anyone else’s, ever again.” A shiver ran through Daichi’s spine at those words, the resounding, firm tone in his voice was evidence that Hajime Iwazumi didn’t fuck around. “We love Koushi so much. Hell, I don’t know if Tooru and I would have survived our first years together if he weren’t there to mediate and act as the adhesive for our relationship. He is the type of man who pours himself empty just to fill others up.”

That phrase struck a note in Daichi’s soul - they were the exact echo of Kuroo’s words, all those weeks ago.

“And he cares about you. And Tobio, obviously. He doesn’t need anyone else to watch his back, he’s grown and can be scary as all fuck--” a dangerous flash caught Hajime’s green eyes, turning them to a color of striking emerald, an indication of how significant his next words were, “--but I will protect him and Tooru, no matter what.”

Holding out his hand in an offer of comradery, Daichi never broke Hajime’s gaze. As their hands met in the middle, the (slightly) shorter brunette gave his boss a solemn promise. “I will never be someone you have to protect Koushi from.”

Giving a solemn nod and taking another swig from his water, Hajime kept his features guarded. “Don’t let me down, Sawamura.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I just wanted to say thank you, once more, for all of the love, comments, kudos, Tumblr messages, etc. for this fic! It means so much and I ADORE reading your comments. I could not even begin to explain the happiness it brings me. 
> 
> This chapter was kind of a set up chapter as we move deeper into their budding relationship. I am so excited to write about everything the holidays are going to bring! Speaking of holidays, as the holidays approach IRL, I am going to get a bit busier. Also, I am taking on a couple of holiday projects for writing, so stay tuned for those! One is from the Haikyuu fandom and the other is from AOT. So if my updates here are a bit more spaced apart, please understand. :) 
> 
> Leave me a comment and let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading! Love y'all! 
> 
> OH also, did anyone catch the setting? I've kept the city a secret I basically feel like the Simpsons and how they kept Springfield's state on lockdown. I don't live in KC (Kansas City), but I have visited loads of times and this is basically a fictional version of it. :P


	18. Flight Pattern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry, I know it's been two weeks since an update, but I've been a bit busy with my other projects while still planning this story, too! :) So this chapter is 7.5 k to make up for it!!  
> I'm back with a bit of angst I didn't originally plan, but here it is *sweats*. Two things before you start:  
> 1.) There are some trigger warnings listed below, please read if you feel as though you need them. They're also spoilers.  
> 2.) There is a very personal note at the bottom regarding the content of this chapter.
> 
> As always, thank you for the love.
> 
> Also, a HUGE shoutout to my girl MadamPresident2032!! Thank you for being a sounding board for so many aspects of this fic, the sequel (wiggles eyebrows), and for just being a kick ass friend. "Mrs. Kelce", you are a true gem!
> 
> T/W: abandonment issues, childhood neglect, referenced drug and alcohol abuse

If someone asked Tetsurou Kuroo if he was a sentimental man, he would lie unapologetically to their face and deny it. ‘ _What use are sentiments_?’ he might inquire in response, a knee-jerk reaction to cover his tracks (namely, tear tracks), because that wasn’t his style. He was a big softie and he knew that, but he made a conscious decision to pretend he wasn’t. It was easier that way, especially as he kissed his nephew goodbye at the airport while hugging his lifelong best friend’s neck, whispers of heartfelt ‘see you soon, I promise’ hanging from their lips. He denied he felt their mutual body heat on his skin long after he had slouched into his undersized coach seat, AirPods in, a half-empty can of lukewarm Coke resting on his bony knee. Unsure of who he was really convincing anymore, he allowed his eyes to close, because he could keep going on, they could keep living separately, he could do this. 

It was fine.

  
  


It wasn’t fine.

There were two people that Kuroo couldn’t lie to: Yui, and his mom. Mrs. Aki Sawamura, specifically. Like the dependable woman she was, and always had been, she was waiting at the airport when Kuroo landed, arms open and a warm smile on her face, eager to embrace her ‘found’ son. Leaving Daichi and Tobio behind was tough, but there was relief in returning home to her, like the cooling salve you put on a surface burn. 

“Hey sweetheart, how was your flight?” she cooed into the tall man’s shoulder, Kuroo practically bent in half just to give the small woman the warmest of hugs. She smelled like the salt air and cinnamon as if she had been busy baking prior to his arrival. It wasn’t surprising, she was a well-known stress baker. Which was good, because Kuroo was a well-known stress eater. They made an excellent pair. 

“Good,” was all he managed to sigh into her dark hair, graying so maturely and gracefully at the edges of her temple, pulled back and away from her face into a low bun. He had told her not to bother with the airport, he had only been gone for the weekend and he would pay her a visit later that week for supper, especially since Daichi’s dad was away on his boat. However, Aki was a smart woman, or intuitive. Or perhaps, just so very motherly that she knew a dismissive tendency from her son when she heard one. 

“Are you hungry, Tetsu?” she asked, her short arms hugging Kuroo’s narrow midsection. 

“Yeah,” he breathed through a rapidly cracking throat. Never did he expect to be this laden with emotion, not after such a short visit. Though he supposed he could chalk it up to being tired from the non-stop movement. Because he wasn’t about to get sentimental, not here, not where people could see.

“Want to eat In’N’Out?” Aki pulled away from her second son, a small smile pulling at her lips, hands navigating to the sides of Kuroo’s cheeks, getting a long look at her dark-haired boy. Kuroo could only manage a faint little nod.

  
  


“How was Tobio doing?” she asked the moment they got into the car, Kuroo’s weekender bag in tow. It was a little after 9 p.m., and a slight summer rain was drizzling on the windshield. In weather like this especially, Kuroo insisted on driving. Never in a million years would he let Mama Sawamura drive in traffic with wet roads. Daichi would never let him live it down if he found out, either.

“He seems really good,” Kuroo explained as he buckled his seatbelt and started the engine. Next to him, Aki adjusted the heater. 

“Is he happy, sweetheart?”

Was she referring to Tobio? Or Daichi? Or them as a pair? A little of both probably, he surmised, as he exited the parking garage to head to the highway. It wasn’t a far drive back to the Sawamura residence, especially since Daichi spent the first hefty bonus check he had earned from a contract deal about four years ago on the downpayment of a new house for his folks. Though he never would admit to it directly, moving them was also a gift to the Sawamura son: knowing his parents were further away from Sato, and that house that held onto so many memories, haunted by ghosts long gone… well, that was the true treasure.

“They’re both happy, mom,” he assured his passenger with what he hoped was a warm smile, not at all melancholy and lonesome. If Aki caught his dejected, morose expression in the passing patches of orange streetlight, she was kind enough not to comment, offering instead a pat to his shoulder, jacket just a bit wet from the rain. 

“How is their house?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful! Dai picked a good one. I was worried, you know, that he was gonna get scammed or something since he bought it without looking at it in person. But it’s really nice.”

“Did he…” her words trailed off as her eyes found the blue glow of the dashboard, but Kuroo knew what she was trying to ask.

“I hung it for him before I left.” 

“You did?” There was a hopeful quality to her voice, something warm and subtle, yet potent. “I was worried he wouldn’t.” ‘ _Have the strength to’_ were the words that she left unspoken, hanging between them, heavy in the humid air. 

Removing one hand momentarily from the wheel, he took his mother’s tinier hand in his. “Mom, don’t worry. He’ll always hang it up wherever he goes, no matter what.”

“And the shrine?” she questioned, words small.

“It’s up, don’t worry. It’s in the hall. Picture, urn, rocks, the flowers from her bouquet. They’re all there.”

A whooshing sigh lightened the tension in the small space, one Kuroo hadn’t necessarily noticed was there before. Yui was so much to them all, but she was truly something to behold for Aki. To the older woman, Yui was the little girl she never got to have, her heart full and warm for her precious daughter-in-law. 

In all of their minds, Yui would always be the bright, smiling child with the peppermint candies stuffed in her pockets and sunshine loaded in her smile. Just like she would always be a tearful first-time mom, holding her darling, newborn son to her bare bosom with trembling arms, overly exhausted but so thankful she could do even that. Both versions were one and the same, a picture of innocence, of love brought to life. 

“You’re gonna miss the exit, Tetsu,” Mama Sawamura chided lightly, pointing off to her right.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed dismissively, flipping on his turn signal, chuckling at her unyielding need to side-seat drive.

“If you don’t get extra bacon, there’s no point in even ordering a bacon cheeseburger.” It was explained like some grand philosophy, administered with all the seriousness of Moses coming down the mountain with the Ten Commandments; written in stone. If there was one thing Kuroo had learned from his mother, it was that Aki didn’t mess around with food. 

And to always order extra bacon, of course.

“Do you want any of my fries?” Kuroo asked, tilting the fry cup in her direction. She shook her head, still occupied with her sandwich. The rain was picking up outside, pelting the restaurant window in long, lonesome streaks. They were basically the only customers out and about so late on a Labor Day weekend Monday, eating fast food way past the normal dinner time hour. 

“Did you text Daichi?” Aki asked after a long sip of her soda.

“Oh shit!” Kuroo huffed, retrieving his phone from his back pocket. The curse word earned him a heated glare, but her mouth was too full to scold in earnest.

 **❤** **Truffles** **❤ [9:12 p.m]:** _Yo did you land._

 **❤** **Truffles** **❤ [9:38 p.m]:** _Kuroo._

 **❤** **Truffles** **❤ [9:42 p.m]:** _Tetsu._

 **❤** **Truffles** **❤ [10:10 p.m]:** _???_

 **❤** **Truffles** **❤ [10:12 p.m]:** _I swear to god. I tracked your flight number on the United website. I know ur alive. Tell mom hi._

 **❤** **Truffles** **❤ [10:16 p.m]:** _For the record, u r terrible_

With zero regard for the time difference, Kuroo immediately hit the button to summon his best friend to Facetime.

“Kuroo what the fuck it’s after midnight and you couldn’t even fucking text me back--” A very drowsy Daichi blinked rapidly into the phone screen, brain clearly calculating. With pinpoint precision, one could easily narrow down the moment abject horror totally consumed his features as the realization that he just said the ‘f’ word _twice_ in front of his mother. 

“Daichi!” his mother gasped, pressing a hand to her poor, feeble heart. The Sawamura son was truly going to bring his mother’s early demise if he continued with that sort of language and it made him snicker. ‘F’ bombs were totally off-limits.

Kuroo couldn’t contain his giggles as Mama Sawamura continued with her lecture. “What if Tobio heard you talk like that?” There may or may not have been a few words in Japanese unknowingly slipped in there, full-on proof of just how upset she was. She didn’t have many rules and wasn’t a stickler about too many things, but she did her best to make sure her boys weren’t complete potty mouths.

Out of respect, the boys tried to keep up the illusion that she had been successful in that endeavor.

Clearly, she hadn’t.

Eventually, Daichi had to intervene just to get a word in. “Mom, mom, I’m sorry, I’m just really tired and it’s after midnight here and we had a long weekend and Kuroo had me worried is all.” He let out a deep sigh and rubbed at one of his rich, chocolate eyes. “I’m very sorry.” 

“You need to think before you speak, son!” For emphasis, she flicked the camera of Kuroo’s phone, the device perfectly propped up on a napkin holder so they could both talk and eat.

The brunette on the other end could only repeat his apology - there wasn’t really another option. “Yes, mom. I promise. I’m very sorry.” To his credit, he sounded incredibly heartfelt, which was just enough to make the mom settle down. 

“Good,” she huffed, taking a long, noisy sip from her straw, clearly ready to move on. 

“Tetsu, how was your flight?” Daichi asked, casually changing the subject. After one last final bite of fry, Kuroo gave a weak smile to the camera. 

“It was exactly like the flight there-- cramped, long, and with a noticeable lack of hot flight attendants.”

“Hot flight attendants? Why are you worried about that when you’ve already met the love of your life?” His question tried to hold onto a teasing demeanor, but it fell flat to Kuroo’s ears. He loved fast and hard, and that fact usually resulted in him crashing and burning. Somewhere, he had read a proverb once that said ‘never rush anything you want to last forever’. Wishful thinking and good intentions told him that he could learn a thing or two from that quote, but the reality was, he never would. For all of his male bravado and gusto, all of his sass and wit, all of the corners he tried to keep sharp and refined, at the end of the day, he was a hopeless romantic, a simple man just seeking to be loved and to love in return.

“I gotta keep my options open.” That’s what his mouth said because it was always easier when he acted like a player, keeping it ‘cool’, flying under the radar. It was easier than inevitable heartbreak, at least. 

Easier than being abandoned.

“Yeah, sure,” Daichi admonished with an eye roll, knowing better than to believe that line. 

It was well after midnight (local time) when Kuroo arrived home to his little duplex. It wasn’t a fancy place, but it was still nice and close to the beach where he liked to go on runs in the mornings. There was something about that air, and the way the pinks and oranges of the dawn sky sent pastels rippling across the water. After driving Mrs. Sawamura home in her car, he took an Uber the remaining 20-minute drive back to his place. 

Everything was exactly how he had left it. It had only been three meager days, after all, of course, much hadn’t changed. The mail was sitting on the table, still unopened. But he didn’t need to peel back the envelopes to know what was inside: a combination of bills, junk, and the ever-changing menu from that Thai place he really liked. Flicking on his bedroom lamp, he threw his duffel bag on his still-made bed, his luggage creating a wave of wrinkles in his blood-red duvet cover. 

Home alone. Again.

He missed the days when Tobio was a baby, and despite the circumstances, always having another creature to love on and care for was the best feeling in the world. Or the nights where Daichi would stay over, and all three would share the big bed, staying up late and watching movies and laughing. Their presence was proof he had a family, even if they weren’t bound by blood or any real sense of legality. They loved each other like a family, and that was what truly mattered. But with his two favorite people half a country away, how was he supposed to function?

Collapsing forward into the bed, his bag still unpacked, he allowed himself a moment to sob. He wasn’t crying, and he sure as shit wasn’t being sentimental. He was just... _feeling_. Navigating the turbulent waters that cast storm clouds in his chest. 

If there was a word for it, he would choose ‘all-consuming loneliness’. Maybe that was multiple words or perhaps even a compound word, but it fit the bill all the same. And as he laid there, considering just going to sleep with his shoes still on, a little ‘beep’ from his phone forced his eyes back open. Who would be texting him this late? 

Rolling over and sitting up, he fetched his phone from his pocket, the battery almost completely dead after the long flight and Daichi’s Facetime chat. Pressing the button on the side, his eyes lit up along with the screen.

 **Kenma [12:13 a.m.]:** _Sorry this is late. I was up playing the remastered Skyrim and lost track of time._

 **Kenma [12:14 a.m.]:** _I hope you had a safe flight._

Before he could even realize what he was doing, his thumbs flew to the digital keyboard, typing out so fast as he could without a care for whether it made him look lame or not.

 **Me [12:15 a.m.]:** _No worries. What race do you play as?_

 **Kenma [12:17 a.m.]:** _A khajiit_

 **Me [12:20 a.m.]:** _Underrated race in my opinion. I have one game where I’m playing a khajiit, but my main profile is a high elf._

_Why a khajiit?_

**Kenma [12:21 a.m.]:** _I really like cats._

 **Me[12:22 a.m.]:** _Me too :)_

 **Kenma[12:25 a.m.]:** _That’s good. I have two._

 **Me[12:26 a.m.]:** _What are their names?_

 **Kenma[12:28 a.m.]:** _Zelda and Link_

 **Me:[12:30 a.m.]** _Those are cute names! Do you have a picture?_

It was at that very moment Kuroo felt his heart flutter. Because the next text held the image of a very sweet-looking man, bleach blond hair falling partially in his face, wide, golden eyes peering over the heads of two beautiful, sleek cats; one an inky, midnight black and the other was gray as steel. The bottom half of Kenma’s face was covered by his feline pets, but even that fact did little to cover up that the young man was truly smiling, his amber irises burning, molten like the sun. The whole image had a blue haze, as though it were illuminated by the idle glow of a gaming screen left forgotten.

Before Kuroo could change his mind and think of something else, he immediately updated the gamer’s contact info.

 _Contact update saved! Name changed to:_ **_Kitten_ **

\-----------

Work was distracting enough, that was for sure. He was rapidly finding a new routine, even though it was rather difficult at first. All he could do was treat his life like the instructions on the back of a shampoo bottle: wash, rinse, repeat.

Eat, work, sleep. 

Daichi sounded like he was doing great, and of course, Kuroo was happy for him. Things were progressing with that gorgeous nurse, and they had even gone to a football game together. Kuroo offered to send Suga old photos of Daichi in his football uniform, but for whatever reason, Daichi denied his kind proposal. ‘ _Who wouldn’t want to bed you when you wear those football pants?’_ Kuroo had countered, but Daichi kept his foot down. So much for offering to help.

However, some irrational, slightly jealous part held onto Kuroo. He wanted to be there, in person, making memories, being a part of their lives still. Ever since they were five years old, the two had been inseparable. And now, it was all the stranger to be apart. 

Lucky enough to live next door to one another, they had become fast friends. It was a simpler time, when Kuroo’s mom was still sober, trying her damndest to hold down two jobs and keep their household afloat. That’s how he had come to spend so much time in Daichi’s home - Mama Sawamura watched Kuroo while his bio mother stayed late at the diner or the supermarket or whatever part-time gig she had held onto at the time.

It wasn’t until he was a little older that Kuroo would begin to understand exactly everything his best friend’s mother did for him, especially once his own mother’s behavior started to decline. His childhood worsened in a slow progression. Perhaps that was one of the benefits of being so young - he could at least be oblivious. But he was a keen boy, so very smart and sharp, attuned to others and their emotions, even if he wasn’t the best at showing them himself. 

When exactly his mother started drinking, he couldn’t tell you with pinpoint certainty. While they never really had much in the first place in terms of material things, he used to always go to bed with a warm hug and a belly full, even if it was a simple peanut butter sandwich or a bowl of generic ramen noodles. His planner was always signed, his homework always done, his pajamas always clean and smelling of that starchy, yet comforting detergent they sold down at the laundry mat in the rusted dispensers mounted by the washers. 

But slowly, small changes began to occur. It was probably about age ten when the noticeable stuff started. Some nights, he just stayed at Daichi’s house, waiting for his mom to pick him until he finally fell asleep, the hope of seeing his mom that night still alive in his heart. He would wake up there, too, stuffed in his best friend’s twin bed, both boys a mass of tangled limb. Mrs. Sawamura was always ready with breakfast on the table and two sack lunches in her hand, sending both dark-haired boys off for the day. After school, he would bound off the bus, excitement and giddy hope burning in his heart because _sometimes_ his mom would be there. She was usually asleep in her big bed, though, the house a disaster.

“Mommy?” he asked her once, shaking her arm. She smelled bad, of something sticky and sharp, it burned his nose, like when they went and put gas in their little car. 

A quiet hum was all that rose from under a mop of onyx hair, waving her pale hand around. “Go away, Tetsu.”

_Go away, Tetsu._

Ten-year-old boys shouldn’t have to ‘go away’, but he didn’t know that, not at the time. They shouldn’t be shooed away by their mothers of whom they hadn’t seen in days. But he was a boy eager to please, obeying his mom and settling in on the sofa with his science books. They didn’t have cable, ‘ _that’s for rich folks_ ’ his mother would say. And Daichi played youth football after school - just another thing they couldn’t afford. 

But books? Books were free, and he could check out five a week from the school library. He enjoyed learning about the world, the earth, the very rocks under his feet. What are they made out of? How does the earth move? What are the other planets like? He had limitless questions, and he found solace in the answers that came to him from the pages of his books. If the world could keep spinning despite everything, Kuroo could keep moving, too.

He was thirteen the first time the power had been shut off. It was an unbearably hot July, and Daichi was away at football camp, though he would be home in just a few days. Kuroo was so excited, counting it down on his little calendar he kept at his desk by the bed. Yui had been good company, of course, and they had made a couple of trips down to the beach. Collecting rocks together, unsurprisingly. Yui thought they were pretty and Kuroo liked looking up what sort of types they were in his ‘Geology Encyclopedia’ (a Christmas gift from Mama Sawamura. )

“Hey buddy, is your mom or dad home?” asked a gruff-looking man when Kuroo came to answer the door, summoned by three aggressive-sounding knocks to the splintered wood. The visitor was dressed in a beige jumper and a backward baseball cap, the stitching across his chest reading ‘Seaside Power and Light’.

“No, my mom is at work,” Kuroo explained, eyeing the man suspiciously. 

“Oh,” he said a bit sheepishly, a red envelope in his hands. “Do you know when your mom will be home?”

“Later.” In all actuality, he didn’t know when his mom would be back from work. She seemed to be putting in a lot of hours, especially with how long she was gone. Recently, she would go four days or more at a time without coming back to the house. Thankfully, there was peanut butter and crackers and books, always books. If he got really hungry, he would meander next door and offer to help Mama Sawamura with fixing supper.

“Well, I am from the electric company and I’ve come to shut off the power. It seems your mom is behind on payment.”

“Can we have another extension?” He knew was much too young to be asking that question, that he shouldn’t even know what an extension was. But he did, and that was the reality of it.

The man only shook his head. “I’m sorry, kid. She’s already had several.” He sighed, the heartache in his voice was genuine. “I have to go back out here and shut you guys off now, but if your mom’s at work, hopefully, I’ll be back in a few days after she’s gotten her paycheck.” He outstretched the red envelope as a means of explanation. 

Kuroo didn’t dignify that with a response, only snatched the envelope before he closed the front door and returned to the couch to savor the last bit of air conditioning as it bellowed through the window unit. It only took a matter of minutes, and the house fell dark and the fans went silent. When Yui came to the door later that evening, Kuroo pretended not to be home, only laid there in the sweltering heat and listened to her energetic knock. She probably knew he was ignoring her, but he couldn’t care. His mom would be home to fix it soon. He could face her then.

A month later, Kuroo met Steven, his mother’s boyfriend. Kuroo never really bothered to ask about his real dad, just chalked it up to a guy who couldn’t stick around. It was always him and his mom anyway. What use was a dad, or anything like it? 

Steven was introduced under the promise of a better life, talked up like he was some sort of Brad Pitt or something. That ended up being far from the truth. Turned out, he was just some deadbeat who lived off of his late wife’s life insurance money. He moved in and paid off the back bills, which turned the lights back on and made sure the water always ran hot when he wanted it to, but that was about it; that’s where his good qualities came to an abrupt end.

Drinking wasn’t Steven’s problem - it was heroin. Which in turn became Kuroo’s mom’s problem, too. By sophomore year of high school, his mother basically didn’t exist at home, her only son seeing her a handful of times a month. Steven didn’t stick around long, either, which was fine. Perfectly fine. Because Kuroo didn’t need him or any other ‘father figure’. Not when he had Daichi and Yui and Mama Sawamura and stargazing and books.

This cycle continued; his mom disappeared only to resurface with a different guy. ‘ _This one is better than the last_ ,’ she would promise, hope strung to her words. Addiction had aged her, sinking in her eyes, hollowing her cheeks, paling her skin. But that promise never stuck and Kuroo didn’t count on it. 

He didn’t count on his mom for anything. 

It came to the point where he didn’t even bother to come home anymore. Instead, he just headed to the Sawamura house. Daichi was always busy with sports, at least for a few hours after school, but Yui was usually there, too. He learned a lot, some things other boys would tease him as being ‘domestic’ or ‘girly’. _‘Yeah, well when I bake your girlfriend a homemade batch of brownies to ask her to prom, guess who’s she’s fucking going with?’_ She taught them both how to cook, how to bake, how to sew buttons on pants, and the ‘joy’ of crocheting. Mama Sawamura hung the stars for all three of them, a shining example of what a parent should be. With her at their backs, they could be whatever and whoever they wanted, and all 5’3” of her would be their pillar of unwavering support. 

Times got harder, though, especially after Yui’s grandmother passed away. Not wanting to add to their burdens (they weren’t made of money, after all), Kuroo did his best to see to himself. As long as the lights stayed on at his house, Kuroo would stay there. 

Girls were cute. Boys, too. For a few months, he found himself lost in soft touches and heated lips, confusing raging hormones for true affection and genuine interest. It was an easy mistake to make, especially when the loneliness set in, touch starved for an ounce of intimacy and comforting love. His partners would tell him he was hot, blessed with a great body and a slick mouth. And while he looked for love from them, he wouldn’t get it, no matter what.

_‘Tetsu, no offense, but aren’t you kind of trash? I can’t date someone like that.’_

_‘Doesn’t your mom do heroin?’_

_‘My parents would never approve of us going out for real.’_

Lines bought and sold, a broken record spun on repeat. One day, their senior year of high school, Kuroo ran to the Sawamura home, tears in his eyes after a particularly gut-wrenching heartbreak. And Mama Sawamura was there with open arms, never once judging her beloved ‘second son’. He curled up in her lap, a hand in his hair, armed with words of advice. “You’re such a beautiful boy, Tetsurou, inside and out. Don’t give away precious pieces of who you are to people who won’t appreciate them.”

“I’m not beautiful,” he offered to Aki, golden eyes rimmed red with tears, all of the intended conviction lost to his shaking, wounded tone.

“You’re beautiful to me, Tetsu. And to Daichi. And Yui. All the people who get to see just how lovely your heart is. You’re my second son, Tetsu, and I love you with all my heart.”

It was from that moment on that Kuroo decided he would be the someone Mama Sawamura saw him as, and he would love himself as much as she loved him.

\----------

“This movie never gets old.” Kuroo was cuddled up with Mama Sawamura, his favorite DVD pulled up on the screen.

“That it doesn’t, sweetheart,” Aki assured him with a gentle pat to his head where it was resting against her shoulder. 

It had been almost a month since he had returned home, and Kuroo found himself gravitating back to his mother figure for company more and more often these days. Perhaps it was because Kuroo felt the stronger need to soak up as much time as possible. There was a plan he had rolling in the forefront of his mind, a desire that would be incredibly bittersweet if he went through with it.

“Did you know this is based on _Taming of the Shrew?_ By Shakespeare?” he asked, sticking a fistful of popcorn mixed with M&Ms into his mouth. 

“No, you are such a smart boy.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile, cheeks pulling up a little. He was positive his mother knew that, but he would take the compliment anyway. She was just that kind of mom, after all.

The movie rolled on, the pair taking their turns quoting scenes, laughing at all their favorite parts, swooning over a very handsome Heath Ledger. Since coming out, Mama Sawamura had been Kuroo’s number one fan, even going with him to his first pride parade. Daichi’s dad really didn’t approve of such behavior, but thankfully, he was gone enough that his bigotry didn’t hang too big of a rain cloud over them. Mama Sawamura dismissed her husband, reminding him ‘ _if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it all_ ’. 

“Mom,” he said finally, somewhere toward the middle of the film. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” 

_Sweetheart_. Mama Sawamura called all of her boys that: Daichi, Tobio, and Kuroo included.

“I’m thinking about applying for jobs in Kansas City.”

A long pause permeated the room, swelling Kuroo’s heart. He felt it in the very cavity of his chest. The word ‘abandonment’ popped into his brain, and it caused the panic to flutter about in his chest. He was _abandoning_ the only person to ever act like a true parent for him, to ever care for him, love him, feed him, buy him birthday and Christmas presents and support his dreams, to remember he liked M&M’s in his popcorn and hazelnut creamer in his coffee and he was going to _leave her_.

Jolting forward, he nearly spilled the almost-empty bowl of their snack onto the hardwood floor. He sat up so abruptly that Mama Sawamura had to latch onto him to keep him from falling off the couch. "Tetsu, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Tears were falling now, cascading down high cheekbones, the moisture cutting his skin like razors. He couldn't bring the words up; they felt so heavy in his throat, laden with panic, a burning leftover from a harsh childhood.

He felt so stupid. So fucking dumb. Daichi even sat him down when the job was offered to him, making sure Kuroo would be okay, asking for permission to seek out a second chance. Even though he repeatedly asked, "are you sure it doesn't feel like abandonment?", Tetsu laughed it off. "Of course it doesn't. You couldn't shake me even if you wanted to."

In need of no further convincing, and after a long talk with the matriarch of the family, Daichi left to follow an opportunity he just couldn't miss out on. And who could blame him for that? Kuroo had had this talk over and over again with himself, that they weren’t leaving him, they were just growing as people, and they deserved to do that.

"Mom," he whispered through soggy, heartfelt tears. "I don't want to leave you, but I miss Tobio and Daichi so much."

Everyone he had ever loved left him in some form or another. His bio mom left him, loving her vices more than she ever loved her son. Yui left him, his other best friend, in a way that was so painstakingly permanent it made his gut ache. Daichi and Tobio left him in pursuit of a way to move forward, to start over, though he would never hold that against them. Now, he was the one wanting to leave, to abandon Aki Sawamura, his true mother figure.

“Oh, sweetheart.” The words left her lips in a breathless heave of emotion, her hands automatically finding their way to either of Kuroo’s cheeks, heated from adrenaline and wet with tears. “My sweet, brave boy.”

“But I’m so scared to go,” he admitted, taking his hands to meet hers, willing to anything to stop their violent trembling. He felt so withered, like a fallen tree branch left to die in the sun, the once-green leaves left to furl over and die, fall to the earth; forgotten. 

Aki hummed, tone even despite the sheer intensity in her eyes. “Even the bravest of birds need to leave the nest and fly.”

“I’m not brave!” he sobbed, the orange lamplight from the end table casting them in a copper glow, making Mama Sawamura’s eyes glow deep and brown, just like Daichi’s; a color Kuroo would always find soothing, filling him with thoughts of family and bonds not so easily severed.

“Sure you are, Tetsurou. You're the bravest one because you've stayed the longest. And you know how hard leaving truly is. You're strong for being willing to leave this all behind, even after a lifetime dealing with those who tried to clip your wings." Two thumbs worked in tandem to catch the tears that couldn’t stay put, leaning on the edges of his eyelids like Olympic divers, before falling, arching over the swells of his cheek. “All a mother ever wants is for her children to be happy. And you've always been the happiest at Daichi's side. And it’s the same for him. A little distance only confirmed that for you. I love you like my other son, Tetsu. And I always will.” She paused just a moment, making sure Kuroo wasn’t hiding his eyes. “Go be where you're supposed to, and know I'm always your biggest fan.”

This only made him cry harder, sobs leaving him aching and doubled over as he crashed into his mom, her short arms finding a way around his broad shoulders. 

“Are you proud of me?” The question came out so hoarse that he barely recognized his own voice. It held onto a hollow quality despite being weighted by crippling pain and relenting uncertainty. 

“Why wouldn’t I be, darling?” 

He leaned back away from her, instinctively bringing his forearm to his cover his face, attempting to hide his shame. “Because all I do is just fucking cry even though I’m a grown-ass man. I--” he sobbed again, feeling so foolish for being unable to reel it in. 

“You cry because you’re a human with feelings.” It was when she said things like this that Kuroo got the feeling that Mama Sawamura wasn’t a mere mortal. Perhaps she really was a sage, a savant, a guru of some kind. Perhaps she possessed mystical abilities or was blessed from somewhere up above. Or perhaps, she was just born to provide unconditional love, a true lifespring of acceptance and maternal comfort, the definition of loving, and leading, by example.

“Wherever you want to go in the lifetime, sweetheart, all you have to do is spread your wings and fly there. And know that I will always be the sun on your face and the wind at your back.”

Unable to think of the proper words to express his gratitude, he leaned back into her hug, feeling his chest warm. They didn’t share a last name or DNA, but Aki Sawamura would always be his real mother.

\---------

This was the right place, according to the address texted to his phone. While his device was probably unlikely mistaken, it certainly didn’t change his apprehension about getting out of the car and going inside. His heart was heavy in his chest.

He hadn’t seen his mother in almost five years.

No one, other than Mama Sawamura, knew where he was headed today. It was something he had to do, one last box he needed to check off, one last door he needed to close for good. If he was going to make a change, it had to be permanent, no loose ends to tie up. 

With one last heavy sigh and a quiet prayer of protection to any eavesdropping deity, he stepped out of the car, letting the door to his BMW fall with a soft close. It was late afternoon, a beautiful late fall Saturday he could be spending at the beach, or baking, or playing Overwatch with Kenma. He could literally be doing anything else but this, yet here he was, standing in front of a half-dilapidated hotel off the highway, probably someplace you rent by the hour or rent by the week, nothing really in between.

Room 27, that’s where he needed to go. Stuffing his phone into his jeans pocket, he meandered up the concrete stairs, his pulse pounding as the sweat lined his neck. 

In and out.  
Over and done.  
Nail in the coffin. 

He knocked gently on the door, doing his best to keep his hands from shaking. Nervousness bubbled in his gut and tore through his esophagus as though on an angry mission; tireless and rampant. The blood roaring in his ears was reminiscent of the chilling, steady beat of war drums by the time the door creaked open, revealing a face so familiar, yet so alien and grossly foreign, all at the same time.

“Tetsurou.” Even his own name sounded so very strange coming from her lips once again, completely void of warmth. 

“Ayako.”

Using his mother’s given name earned him a chiding click of her tongue. “Now Tetsu,” she chastised, opening the door just a tad further, hanging partway out of it, “that’s not how you’re supposed to greet your mama.”

“You’re not my mother.” Those words were harsh, calculated, and flat. He came to say what he needed to and leave, nothing else.

“Hmm,” she hummed in return, sounding unamused, though her hollow expression gave little away. She looked even worse than the last time Kuroo had seen her. Her jet black hair hung to her shoulders, ends splintered and jagged. Her large amber eyes that were more pupil than iris, dark and sullen, almost completely sunken into her skull. And her body; her poor tiny body weighed next to nothing, the sharp caverns of her collarbones all the more obvious in the baby blue tank top she was wearing, her frail, bird-like arms protruding from the armholes. 

“I just came by to tell you something, just like I said in my text.” Faintly, Kuroo could hear the traffic pass by and the TV from the motel room blare what sounded like an old western film; all signs that his heart rate was normalizing, adrenaline replaced with confidence, ready to move on.

“Then say it,” she goaded, moving one of her rail-thin arms to prop in the entryway, the heavy gray door falling slightly open to reveal the utter shitshow behind her; a man laid on the bed, back to Kuroo, clearly asleep, while scattered around the motel room were empty beer cans, plastic sacks, and the sharp stench of cat piss.

“I came to say goodbye. I’m moving.”

Slim, onyx brows furrowed. “Where?” 

He shrugged, trying to keep things nonchalant. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not coming back here.”

“Not even to see your precious mother?”

“If by that, you mean you, then no.”

A crackling, wet laugh littered her lungs, though the action was completely devoid of joy. Somehow, she looked even more exhausted at that statement, as if maybe it had really phased her. “Didn’t come here hoping I’d cry about it, did you?”

“Even I know better than that by now.”

“Well, I suppose that makes you smarter than you look.” Briefly, she shut her eyes, shifting her slight body weight onto the metal doorframe. “I don’t think either of us needs to cry, you did plenty of that as a child.”

“Kids are allowed to cry,” he defended, tone even, not letting her see just how much her words stung, “and so are grown men.”

“Is that what your beloved _Mama Sawamura_ tells you?” Sheer venom and contempt accented her use of Aki’s affectionate nickname.

In fact, it was. Those were almost her exact words that night a few weeks back. He was allowed to feel anything he wanted, simply because he was a human being, and the woman who gave birth to him wasn’t going to steal that from him.

“I didn’t come here to argue,” he stated finally, taking a couple of steps back away from the door until he felt the small of his back connect with the handrail behind him.

“Fair enough. I just know you’re running away from ghosts, though.” The eyes that were identical to his in color flashed in his direction, scanning, searching to see if she could cause any sort of a rise.

“I don’t have any ghosts, Ayako.”

She laughed at that comment, the chuckle just as joyless as the one that preceded it. “That makes one of us, son.”

“The only reason you’re haunted is because of your own life choices. Not because of mine.” Without realizing it, he had turned so he was gripping the rail, long fingers curling around the rusted wrought iron so tightly that he felt as though his hand might crush it to fine powder beneath his clutch. 

“Keep telling yourself that, Tetsu. But you can’t shake what’s in your blood, and ours will always be tainted, destined for addiction and disease.”

Unwillingly to participate in her game any longer, Kuroo pushed off the rail, his body language instantly guarded. “That’s all I had to say. We won’t see each other again.”

“Have fun on your next adventure,” she said wryly, clear indignation and mockery in her voice. “But you could at least give your deal ol’ mom a parting gift.”

Lips curled into a sneer. “And what is it you want from me?”

She shrugged and stepped fully out on the concrete walkway, hand thrust forward. “Money?”

With a gut-curdling laugh, Kuroo reached in his own back pocket to pull out his wallet. From it, he retrieved several twenty-dollar bills. Glancing down at the currency, then back at his biological mother’s hand, he thrust the cash forward. The burnt ends of her greedy fingers curled around the money, eyes almost wild.

“Congratulations, Ayako. For the low price of eighty dollars, you just bought the last shred of respect I’ll ever have for you.”

Without further adieu, and head held so high he thought he might pull a muscle in his neck, he turned his back on the only biological parent he had ever known, feeling lighter than he ever had before, ready to face whatever was coming next.

\------------

Later that night, Kenma sent him a text, something small, but so reassuring. 

**Kitten [11:04 p.m.]:** _I know we’re about to get on Overwatch together, but I didn’t think I can say this aloud._

_But I like you. When are you coming to KC next?_

At that simple text, a floodgate had opened in his heart.

 **Me [11:05 p.m.]:** _Soon, Kitten._

_I have an interview next week. :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! So, no, this chapter wasn't originally planned, at least not for the main story. I'm sorry I didn't really stick to the plan, but after I decided that Kuroo would be returning to KC in hopes of making it permanent, I knew I wanted to do a bit of a character study/ background look. This chapter lacked a lot of romance, and it had zero DaiSuga, and for that, I'm so sorry. 
> 
> As for the personal note, a lot of this is mirrored from my own childhood. I lost my mom seven years ago to a drug overdose, and I miss her dearly, despite her faults. I wanted to write Kuroo's mom as a misunderstood woman because that's how I see my own mother. But looking at it objectively, I think I see her more in a realistic light. I won't speak ill of the dead, though, because I will always love her, just like some part of Kuroo will always love his own mom. I am blessed, however, to have my very own 'Mama Sawamura' a few times over in this life, though mainly, I found it my beloved mentor, Meg. Meg - I'm sure you'll never see this, but as I've told you many times before, 'I wouldn't want to be the woman I would've been if not for you'. 
> 
> THANK YOU FOR THE 900 KUDOS. I am so blown away.  
> Much love to you all! Thank you for being here and letting me have a voice. It means more than I could ever say.
> 
> NEXT TIME: DaiSuga, I freaking promise, please don't cancel me lmao


	19. Questions & Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya friends! No TW's for this chapter, just our favorite best bois. Thanks for not canceling me. See you at the bottom for notes. I love you all so much and I am still SO blown away by your kind words. Seriously. Bless you all. I was so scared about posting that Kuroo chapter so to say that I am overwhelmed by your love and response is an understatement. 
> 
> Shoutout to my girls MadamPresident2032 and BbyBlake! You ladies have been my rock this week and this fic would surely grow stagnant without you. Thank you!

“Okay spill it, Suga-chan. How far have you guys gone?”

The gray-haired nurse stopped dead in his tracks, whipping his head around to regard his best friend with wide eyes. “Tooru!” he admonished, feeling a bit scandalized. “You can’t just ask that!”

The lanky brunette laughed and waved his hand around dismissively. They were on their Sunday date to the running trails, and today was a bit overcast and cloudy; a spooky, late-October mist clinging to the changing leaves, dampening the earth beneath their sneakers. “What? Why? Koushi, we always talk about this sort of stuff!” They had slowed to a walk and Tooru pulled his hoodie closer to his frame, the cold biting at his pale skin. 

There was truth to that statement. If he felt comfortable sharing his sexual exploits or intimate romantic details with anyone, it was Tooru. Not only was he his best friend, but Tooru was probably the least judgemental person on the planet (truly, if it was about something like this. He could be a bit of an asshole about other topics, but Suga’s love life was always considered with great care.) The problem was, there wasn’t much to share. Which was fine, really, it was. He had gone this long without sex. He didn’t need it now. It wasn’t a requirement for a relationship and it certainly wasn’t an expectation. Of course, he had desires and Daichi was absolutely sexy, but all in due time, right? 

Not to mention there was that small, niggling little fear in the back of his brain that Daichi had one glaring similarity with his ex-boyfriend: Suga was just an exception. Suga wasn’t one to question anyone’s sexuality, or it’s fluidity, or even the fact that yes, sometimes people just have one person they’re attracted to, regardless of gender. There was a whole big, beautiful spectrum, and that was wonderful. But Gavin had made it abundantly clear that Suga had corrupted him somehow, ruined him, made him filthy. While he was positive Daichi wasn’t like that, or wouldn’t think that way, he still couldn’t swallow down the worry that Daichi was straight, and would come to regret their relationship. 

Suga couldn’t handle that happening again. 

“This is… different,” he explained lamely. Despite knowing that answer wasn’t going to satisfy Tooru, it was the best one he could offer at that moment.

Tooru paid the shorter friend a quick side-eye before letting out a knowing hum. If Suga didn’t know any better, he would say it almost sounded disapproving. 

“I’m sorry, do you have something you’d like to add?”

Narrowing his hazel eyes and cocking his head slightly to the left, he shot back at Suga. “Do you?”

“Doesn’t Hajime lecture you enough on meddling?” 

“Ha! After yesterday, Hajime can’t say shit to me about  _ my _ meddling.” 

Now, that wasn’t a comment Suga had been expecting at all. With probably a little more force than intended, he caught his best friend’s arm, halting them completely on the dirt path. “What does that even mean?” 

After an unsuccessful attempt to brush Suga’s hand off, Tooru’s face took on a more somber expression, though the wolfish and scrutinizing glint never left his eye. “I know what’s bothering you about this whole thing, Koushi, even though you haven’t said it yet.”

A poisonous dread settled in the pit of his stomach. “And what is that, Tooru? Please enlighten me on how I must feel.”

“You’re worried that Dai-chan is straight just like Gavin. You’re worried that he doesn’t date women anymore and that you’re--”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Suga warned, dropping his friend’s arm. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. Iwa-chan took Dai-chan to the basketball court yesterday and they had a man-to-man conversation about you.” Tooru swiped a nimble hand through his dark, chocolate locks, curling a little from sweat. It was the only evidence that he was feeling a bit anxious about it all; his voice gave nothing away, not at that moment. “Iwa-chan can be so scary, but supposedly, your boyfriend wasn’t shaken in the slightest.”

“What did Hajime talk to Daichi about?” His voice wasn’t overly loud, but that didn’t mean his words were charged with a touch of anger. He was certainly feeling  _ something _ , and he was teetering between several emotions. He had known that Daichi and Hajime had plans, but his boyfriend didn’t say a word about any sort of conversation that was out of the norm. 

Tooru turned away slightly, not meeting Suga’s gaze. The brunette crossed his arms in front of his slender chest, attention locked on the empty field to their left. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, though it was doing nothing to stave off the icy dread that lined Suga’s lungs. The pair stepped aside and offered a quick apology to another runner as she passed, but it still took another long moment for Tooru to speak. 

“Hajime has a lot of guilt regarding Gavin.” Suga didn’t say anything, only allowed Tooru to continue to gather his thoughts. “For almost ten years, Hajime has carried around the guilt that there was more we could have done. We--” he stopped, blinked slowly, and then resumed, “we both do.” 

“Do what?”

“Carry it.” Tooru didn’t unfold his arms nor move his head, though he still managed to look out of the corner of his eye. “We don’t have it in us to forgive ourselves for being so blind to what was going on.” The emotion present in his words was palpable, hanging thicker than any lingering fall rain. “Hajime wanted to kill him that night, just rip his fucking throat out there in the club. He couldn’t fathom even playing basketball with such a piece of shit, let alone allowing him to fucking continue to  _ walk _ .” 

Tears met the morning rain on Tooru’s high cheekbone, sliding down his pale cheek until they rushed to his pointed chin. 

“We can’t forgive ourselves for that relationship,” Tooru spoke up again, long fingers curling into his jacket so tight that his knuckles were turning white. “For letting Gavin do the things he did. If we can prevent it… keep it from happening again… then maybe, just maybe, we can begin to feel a touch of redemption.” 

The air hung heavy between them, Tooru standing so still that the mist clinging to his eyelashes didn’t even force them to flutter. He was an image of beauty and had they been having any other conversation, Suga would take a moment to compliment his best friend, tell him he was stunning. Because he was, inside and out. 

However, there were more important words Tooru needed to hear at that moment.

“You don’t need my forgiveness,” Suga said finally, each syllable weighted and careful as they passed his lips. “Because I was never angry at you. It wasn’t your responsibility and it certainly wasn’t your doing. I should have--”

“ _ Don’t _ .” There was a sharpness to the demand, bitter and edged with rage, though it still possessed a soft quality, vulnerable and shaking. “Your safety is my responsibility, Koushi, because I love you. You are my best friend and nothing will ever change that. Hajime loves you, too.” He turned then, finally making a motion to look his best friend in the face. His hazel eyes were red-rimmed, but his face remained bold, unwavering. “I know we crossed a line yesterday. I know, and I’m sorry. But I wasn’t going to let a red flag pass me by, and neither was Hajime. Our hearts couldn’t take it.”

Without further delay, Suga sealed the gap between the two of them, wrapping his slender arms around Tooru’s shoulders, the brunette’s whole body rumbled with the faintest tremors; there was a lot more that Tooru was holding onto, that much he could tell. Never once did Suga hold any animosity nor expectations regarding his friends; they didn’t owe him anything, especially not an apology. And as Tooru sobbed gently into the shorter man’s shoulder did the young nurse finally come to realize just how much Gavin’s abuse had affected them all, even after all these years.

“And it matters, Koushi,” Tooru insisted through a tear-strained throat, hands splayed across Suga’s back, chin tucked on his shoulder, “of course it matters. What happened to you wasn’t insignificant, and it’s important to tell Daichi,” the words were leaving him so fast, in such a rushed, emotional manner that Suga was struggling to keep up, intermittent sobs blurring his words, “you have to tell him because it  _ matters _ . Because he matters to you. He’s special, Suga-chan, I know he is.” He sniffled then, “no one will ever be good enough for you, Koushi, but he might just be close.” 

“Thank you,” Suga cooed into his best friend’s ear, paying no mind to the other runners who cast them strange looks as they jogged past. “You’re so stupid, but thank you.”

“It’s a good thing I’m beautiful, huh, Suga-chan?”

At that comment, Suga felt his tears turn to laughter as the two friends held each other in the rain.

\----------

Hajime prided himself on being a pretty good boss, all things considered. He knew he had a grumpy face - his husband never let him live that down, affectionately calling him a ‘porcupine’ from time to time based on both his hair and his ‘prickly’ demeanor. So he did his best to compensate by always ensuring that he was keeping up his due diligence - if something needed to be done around the office, and Hajime could take care of it without delegating it to others, he did. If he could handle it, why push the work over to his subordinates? He was no stranger to hard work and opted to lead by example.

That’s why when the phone call came in from the Omaha office requesting someone to fill in their VP’s place at the upcoming conference in Chicago, Hajime said, ‘write my name down’. Except, it wasn't that easy.

“Oh, you don’t understand, Mr. Iwaizumi,” came the airy, sweet tone of the woman on the other end of the line. “You can’t attend, you’ll need to send your deputy instead.”

Balking, Hajime held the phone away from his ear. “Pardon? Why can’t I go?”

The woman, a very sweet lady named Jennie, apparently, just laughed. “This is a conference and annual meeting specifically for deputies, sir. Ally, from the Omaha branch, was set to go to represent our region, but she has had a family emergency and needs to stay put. Can we trust you to send your deputy in her place? It’s crucial that we have each region represented as to ensure quorum and effective training practices.”

Hajime could only sigh at that - he was a sucker for good business practice and she was making valid points. “I will see what I can do,” he assured her before they politely wrapped up their phone call. 

Yeah, this wasn’t the most ideal situation, and he knew that Daichi wasn’t the type to just have an excuse made for him. The conference was the first week of November so that only gave him six days to make arrangements for Tobio. It wasn’t fair, but Hajime would give him an out if he really needed one.

\--------

“Sure, of course, I can go,” Daichi said without an ounce of hesitation. 

Hajime sighed and collapsed into the chair across from Daichi’s desk. “What will you do for childcare?” he asked, keeping his voice careful. 

That was a good question because Daichi honestly had no idea. But he knew he had a job to do as well. Up to this point, he had been really fortunate to have his mom and Kuroo right there in the same town, but that wasn’t really an option anymore. “Ah, I’m not sure,” he admitted after a moment, scrubbing his hands over his face. This had been a hell of a Monday.

“Well, I mean, I don’t have much experience with kiddos, but Tooru and I would be willing to keep him for a few days.” He swallowed thickly and shook his head lightly. “I mean, Tooru would have a hay day with it. I think it would trigger his baby fever.” 

He may have mumbled the last sentence, but Daichi still heard it verbatim and a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I really appreciate your offer, but can I have a day to see if I can make arrangements? Or do you need an answer today?”

Hajime, the gracious human he was, waved his hands dismissively. “Nah, tomorrow is fine. We have a ton of money in the travel fund because there hasn’t been much of an opportunity to attend conferences and stuff this year. The cost of the flight from today to tomorrow won’t kill us.”

“Alright, well thanks for being considerate.”

“Daichi,” Hajime said flatly, catching his deputy’s attention, “springing a last-minute business trip on a single dad and then giving him a whopping 24 hours to find childcare isn’t considerate. It’s actually kind of shitty and you should be mad at me.”

To that, Daichi didn’t have much of a reply. He only laughed, because Hajime’s guilty face even looked a touch angry. Why would Daichi fault Hajime for that? He had a job to do, simple as that. He would figure it out.

\----------

Mondays were tough, especially the Monday of a holiday week at the school. Halloween was Saturday, and the children were abuzz with sheer anticipation for the upcoming festive events: dressing up, free candy, the classroom parties, etc. Christmas was easier because then at least Suga could threaten them with the ‘better act right or Santa won’t bring you anything under the tree!’ With Halloween, however, there was no threat. Kids would just act a little wild and that was it. It didn’t make them bad children, not by any means, but it did make Suga more than a little exhausted.

Ever since his and Tooru’s conversation the day before, Suga had a lot to think about. It’s not as though Suga was angry, not completely. In fact, he was incredibly endeared by his two best friends’ unyielding faithfulness and sense of duty. He did have plans to tell Daichi about it at some point, but his frustrations lied with the fact that it was his own story to tell. However, Hajime taking the wheel and speaking to his boyfriend seemed a bit out of character, though after the explanation of their long-standing guilt regarding Gavin, it all began to make sense. The shorter of the two husbands usually minded his own business without even the slightest bit of prompting, resigning to simply stay out of things. Hajime always cited that it made life simpler, and that’s why Tooru was stressed all the time - he was too busy being worried about other people. So the very idea that Hajime went so far outside of his comfort zone to have a conversation with Daichi, who was his subordinate, it was, well, incredibly overwhelming. If Suga ever needed proof that he mattered to both of the Iwaizumi men, it was right there. 

At that moment, a knock resounded on his door, breaking him from his reverie. It was after school already, the bell having just rang about ten minutes ago. Tooru was outside for pick up duty, and no matter how tentative their relationship proved to be at any given point, the brunette principal would never, not in a million years, knock.

Shutting the file he had open, he called out, ‘please come in.’ It was more than likely a parent dropping off a new medication or a teacher with a health question - some of the staff seemed to think his whole job existed simply to provide answers to personal health concerns, ‘does this look like a rash to you?’

However, he was beyond pleasantly surprised to see two of his favorite people in the whole world walking through his office. First, he caught a glimpse of Daichi’s smile, warm and handsome, followed immediately by Tobio, who bounded into the small room yelling, “Nurse Suga!”, as though they hadn’t just seen each other in the hallway a few hours ago.

Instinctively, Suga held out his arms and Tobio collided into them, burying his face in the swishy material of his scrubs, throwing his little arms around the blonde’s neck. “Hey Tobio, how are you?”

“Good,” he murmured into the nurse’s neck. “We came to ask you out to dinner!”

“You did?” Suga chuckled, drawing back to get a better view of his favorite grade-schooler. “Well, how sweet is that?”

“I understand if you have plans or if you’re busy,” Daichi said sheepishly from his perch by the door. He pawed anxiously at the back of his thick neck, a small blush gracing the peaks of his cheeks. If asked about it, Daichi would probably wave it off as a little color from the cold, but Suga knew better. It was wildly endearing that Daichi still, despite their title of ‘boyfriends’ and their frequent dates and calls, got a little flustered. A part of Suga always wondered if he would be that way, and he hoped the answer was yes. There was an innocence to it that made Suga feel so special and safe, and he never wanted that feeling to fade.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t have any plans,” he said with an impish smile. “I would love to go on a date with the Sawamura men.” To emphasize, he gave Tobio’s cheek a tiny little pinch, causing the brunette boy to giggle and try to squirm away. From over his shoulder, Daichi’s gorgeous grin widened, causing the corners of his stunning umber eyes to crease.

“Do you need to run home and change out of your scrubs?” 

“Oh, sure! Let me run by my place and change and then we can meet up somewhere. Does that sound okay?” 

Tobio answered for them both, “let’s get Mexican food!”

  
  


Barely an hour and a half later, Mexican food it was. It was Suga’s favorite, and he was  _ always  _ down for ‘Dollar Margarita Monday’. Daichi seemed thrilled at the prospect, too. He had dressed down from his suit, much to Suga’s disappointment, and changed into a knit maroon sweater that looked so gorgeous against his dark features and sun-kissed skin. He was thumbing through the menu while Tobio took long sips of his Sprite.

“What do you normally get?” his boyfriend inquired, not bothering to lift his gaze as he casually snatched Suga’s hand underneath the table. It was the blonde’s turn to flush wildly at the contact, the burning in his face having absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of his extra hot salsa.

“Oh, you know,” Suga began, trying to keep his tone casual as well as he laced his long fingers between his boyfriend’s. “Usually the ‘Ultimate Fuego Shrimp Quesadilla’ stuffed to the gills with pepper jack cheese and habanero sauce.”

At that comment, Daichi couldn’t help but widen his eyes, peering at the nurse over the edge of his menu. “Suga that sounds….”

“Painful.” Tobio finished the sentence, lightly munching on a tortilla chip.

“What he said,” Daichi chuckled, craning his neck at his son, seated to his immediate left. They were in a colorful booth with soft, yet upbeat mariachi music playing over the speakers. Since it was still a little early for the major dinner rush, their service had been prompt and efficient. Granted, it wasn’t the ‘Peter’ treatment, but still. 

“Listen,” Suga said, lowering his menu and sticking his nose in the air, feigning arrogance, “I am a medical professional, and let me just tell you that the likelihood of me burning a hole in my stomach is slim to none.” There was a brief pause and Suga added, “only because I’ll put a hole in my esophagus first.”

The Sawamura men were left to giggle at that comment as the waiter rolled around and took their orders. Their conversation fell into the day-to-day after that, the primary topic being Tobio’s plan for Halloween. Daichi had expressed his exasperation to Suga as well as his sincerest apology because Tobio was wanting to switch up his Halloween costume. 

Previously, Suga had worked on sewing one design which included a patchwork quilt pattern shirt for him to be a scarecrow, but now, Tobio wanted to match Shoyou in an attempt to make him feel better. The orange-haired child had broken his arm over the weekend, evidently. Suga knew all about the injury, as Mrs. Hinata had emailed him over a copy of the ER report and doctor’s orders to keep in his student record along with his pain medication, should he need it. Suga wasn’t offended by the costume change, not since Tobio was switching it up in an attempt to make his friend feel better. Though Daichi, ever the responsible parent, made Tobio promise to Nurse Suga that he would wear the scarecrow costume to school and the matching costume later that evening. Tobio agreed to this compromise and was excited to have two separate costumes for each.

Besides, Shoyou’s newest injury was the reason for the change-up. Apparently, the ginger-haired boy had been out in the front yard horseplaying with a football and trying to emulate some of the players he had seen on TV. That’s when he tripped over a tree root and landed hard on his forearm, cracking it against the sidewalk. It certainly wasn’t an uncommon issue for six-year-olds, especially ones as active and energetic as Shoyou. In fact, he had come to school that morning, safety cone orange cast in tow, smiling as bright as the sun, offering a sharpie to any friend that wished to sign his cast. It was an incredibly endearing trait to have, the ability to smile and find sunshine even in the worst of scenarios. 

“Shoyou let me sign his cast first though,” Tobio explained through a big bite of his chicken taco. “He said only his best friend could sign it first, and that’s me.” Suga watched closely as Daichi’s face took on a proud, paternal quality, softening the edges of his gorgeous cheekbones, relaxing the sometimes overly-stressed purse to his lips. 

“That’s awesome, Tobes! Did you put a smiley face on it?”

“Duh!” he yipped cheerfully after the one final bite of his food. “So we’re still all going trick-or-treating together, right daddy?” Tobio asked, looking up at his dad. “Because Natsu is matching our costume, too, and it will only work if we’re all together.”

“Yes, buddy, I already talked to Shoyou’s mom, and we’re still all going together.” Given the tone in Daichi’s voice, Suga surmised that this was likely not the first time that evening that Daichi had to reassure his young son that the plans hadn’t changed.

“What about you, Nurse Suga? Do you want to come trick-or-treating with us?”

The blonde perked up, but then his enthusiasm was immediately doused by Daichi’s next words. Suga knew it was a common habit of Daichi’s, an attempt to teach Tobio good manners, but it couldn’t help but sting a little. Before he could answer himself, Daichi already had an explanation ready.

“Now Tobio, we need to give adults their space, remember? He’s allowed to say no.”

Despite his better judgment, Suga felt a wave of anxiety wash through him. After the talk with Tooru on the trail, Suga hadn’t had a real opportunity to bring up Gavin to Daichi, nor find out the ins and outs of his boyfriend’s conversation with Hajime and how it was all perceived. Discussing it over the phone or text wasn’t a viable option, not with such a heavy subject matter, and it certainly wasn’t appropriate to bring up in front of Tobio. That was exactly how insecurity ended up getting the best of him. Maybe Daichi didn’t want him to come along, and that’s why he was dismissing Tobio’s offer? Perhaps, after hearing about Gavin, Daichi was deterred. Though he wasn’t acting any different and they had invited him out to dinner. But insecurity was a dangerous thing. He wanted to always be with the Sawamura men if he could.

“I wouldn’t say no,” Suga replied softly, startled at the sound of his own voice. There was a desperate, needy quality to it that he didn’t recognize, and it forced him to sit a little straighter. 

Ever the perceptive human, Daichi’s face immediately softened, and this time, when he took Suga’s hand, it was over the table. There was an unabashed sincerity to it, the way his longer, thicker fingers curled around his, squeezing with a gentle reassureance. Suddenly, Suga felt so stupid, so very foolish, for thinking this man in front of him could feel anything resembling contempt or jealously. 

“Yay! That means that you’ll come along! Maybe you and daddy can have matching costumes?”

To that, Daichi smiled wider, bringing the back of Suga’s pale hand to his lips, giving it the most feather-light kiss. Under the orange tungsten, those deep eyes glowed, rich with reverence and adoration, the color of the fertile earth tilled after a summer rain. At that very moment, it was at though time stood still. Whatever weary falsehood had rooted in his brain prior died a traitor’s death, slain in cold blood by the gentle tenderness of the man before him. 

“Ugh, quit it,” Tobio teased from his spot next to Daichi in the booth. The little boy poked his dad in the ribs. “Daddy, let me out so I can go to the bathroom.” 

With an air of reluctance, Daichi released Suga’s hand and slid out of the booth, freeing his son, a playful laugh on his lips. “Do you need me to go with you?” he asked.

Notably annoyed, Tobio shook his head. “Nope, daddy, it’s right there.” He pointed about 40 ft away from where the signs read ‘Restrooms’. “I’ll be right back.”

Daichi lowered himself back into the booth, paying his departing son one last mindful eye before he captured Suga’s hands yet again, curling both into his large palms. “Suga, listen,” he started, words mild, lacking any sort of edge. “I’m sorry if I just made you feel like I didn’t want you to come,” he admitted in a breathless sigh, taking just a moment to let his dark, black lashes flutter as he scraped together his thoughts. “Because I want you to come everywhere. I…” he let his voice trail off for a moment, “I just don’t want you to get sick of me… or us.”

Suga blinked at that admission, pinching two ash brows as he tried to make sense of what Daichi had just told him. The words soothed the burn in his stomach that had nothing to do with the sheer volume of spicy food he just inhaled, and everything to do with just how intense his feelings had become for the brunette dad over the past few months. An embarrassed heat touched his cheeks and Suga turned away. 

“I could never,” he said slowly, so softly that he was sure Daichi hadn’t heard it. Though given the sheer strength of the squeeze he was given in return, Suga knew otherwise. 

“Daddy!” exclaimed Tobio as he meandered back to the table. “I washed my hands!” He held up both of his tiny paws for emphasis, a little shiny from being washed without being properly dried. “Let’s go home and show Nurse Suga the rest of my costume plan!”

Seemingly unwilling to make the same mistake twice, Daichi’s eyes flitted back to his boyfriend’s, hands still locked together. “What do you say?”

Demurely, Suga nodded. “I’d love to.”

\----------

Dinner had almost ended in disaster and Daichi blamed no one but himself. It was a nasty habit that he couldn’t seem to shake - he constantly felt like he was bothering Suga, that he was too needy, or too eager to spend time with the beautiful blonde. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way. Maybe it was just simply insecurity. He struggled to figure out exactly what Suga saw when he looked at him. It couldn’t be anything close to the magic he felt when he looked at Suga.

The nurse had come home with them, sticking around to provide costume suggestions and offer his elite sewing skills. Daichi sheepishly explained that either Kuroo or his mom did all the sewing and that he was only good at poking his finger repeatedly and letting out frustrated sighs. After that, they settled on the sofa for a movie, enjoying popcorn salad (M&M’s mixed with popcorn), Tobio squeezed between his dad and his favorite nurse, one little, buttery hand curled around each man’s bicep. The movie was one of Tobio’s favorites,  _ Trolls _ , of course. He bopped his head and sang along to all songs, taking quick moments to explain to Suga the plot points, just in case.

Daichi could only smile at the heartwarming sight.

At some point toward the end, Tobio nodded off, and Daichi took it as his opportunity to discuss some things with Suga in private. After carefully extricating the sleeping boy from between them, Daichi latched onto his boyfriend's hand and led him into the kitchen. Suga leaned back against the counter, and Daichi, wordlessly, caged the shorter of the two men in between his toned arms. As if on instinct, Suga brought either of his hands to Daichi’s face, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. It was chaste and slow, a simple pressing of lips, but it felt like so much more. 

Since the last time they kissed, Daichi had come to learn so much about his boyfriend, even if it wasn’t intentional. While he wasn’t entirely sure when or how to broach the subject, he wanted to make Suga aware that he could talk about his trauma on his own time. Whenever that was, Daichi would be there to listen, no matter what.

After a quiet few moments, Daichi leaned away, though made no move to lower his arms, simply breathing in the other man’s comforting scent and lingering warmth. Suga laced his fingers behind Daichi’s neck, making it a point to purposefully brush up and down his warm skin. 

“Hey,” he said finally, the simple greeting the first word he had uttered in almost half an hour since his son fell asleep. Time passed differently when Suga was around; it was almost like it slowed down but sped up, all at once. 

“Hey,” Suga replied coyly, bringing his forehead to meet the brunette’s in a quiet ‘thud’. 

“Thanks for coming out for supper.”

“Thanks for paying.”

“I was trying to butter you up.”

“The popcorn did a good job of that.”

Daichi couldn’t help but chuckle at that line, reveling in the softness of Suga’s voice, the honey dripping from his words, the humorous, airy lilt he carried with it. “I do actually have a question for you though.”

With that, Suga stiffened. As fast as it came, though, it disappeared, quickly flashing across his face: fear, or at least something akin to it. Once it dissolved, all that was left was a genuine curiosity, warmth returning to those light brown orbs. “Okay,” he said after a long moment.

Daichi had never asked anyone but his mother and Kuroo to keep Tobio overnight, so it was a little unnerving. “You’re welcome to say no to this question.” 

Blinking, but slightly confused, Suga nodded. “Alright.”

“It’s kind of a big favor.”

“You need a kidney.”

The chuckle that vibrated through Daichi’s chest made him feel so warm all over, the dull heat settling into his extremities. It was comforting, serving as a reminder that Suga was so fucking perfect that it was almost unreal. “No, not exactly.”

“Hmm,” Suga hummed, leaning away just a bit to press a thoughtful finger to his lips. “What else could you ask me for… oh! You need me to loan you money because you got caught up with some mafia members.”

“Uh, no.” The smile was so wide on Daichi’s face that it was basically burning his cheeks.

“Okay, no mafia. Gambling debts?”

“Do I look like a gambler?”

“Ahh okay, okay I got it. You’re hiding out from the FBI because you have access to government secrets but now you’re blacklisted.”

“Why am I blacklisted?”

“Why not, Daichi? They’re probably scared I’m a Soviet spy and I’m going to seduce you for launch codes.”

A thick black brow raised on Daichi’s forehead. “Now that doesn’t sound half bad. What if I don’t have any launch codes but you still seduce me?”

Suga sputtered, feigning offense, pushing gently at Daichi’s broad shoulder. “This is tit for tat, Sawamura. You can’t short me. Launch codes or my pants stay on.”

“Was my phone number on a bouquet of flowers not ‘launch code-y’ enough for you?” 

“Puh!” the blonde spattered, shaking his head, causing his gray hair to muss even further. “As if.”

Knowing when he was defeated, the young dad only sighed, wrapping his arms around Suga’s waist completely, bringing him into a crushing hug. In a fit of giggles, Suga let his mouth find Daichi’s again, pressing loving, yet heated kisses to each other’s lips. The brunette fought back the urge to let his tongue slip inside. 

“Can I ask you that question now?”

Breathlessly, as if he had forgotten there had been a conversation going on previously, Suga nodded. “Sure, lay it on me.”

Pushing down the thoughts of all the things he would gladly lay on Suga, Daichi allowed himself a quick moment to settle down. “Again, you can say no…”

“Odds are good that I’m not going to say no,” Suga reassured, giving Daichi’s forearms a little squeeze.

“Well, uh, Hajime needs me to go to a conference this weekend. I’d fly out on Sunday, the day after Halloween, and then I’d be back no later than Wednesday.” Daichi let his eyes lower, not meeting Suga’s gaze. For some reason, asking for help with Tobio felt embarrassing. He didn’t understand why, though. Perhaps it was just all the pride he felt from being a single dad, though usually, Kuroo and his mom were around to help. “And I didn’t know if…” 

“Daichi?” the soft, questioning tone Suga used to say his name startled him a little, forcing him to lift his head and catch that honey gaze. “Do you need me to watch Tobio while you’re away?”

“I mean if you’re okay with it.”

An affectionate, loving grin pulled at the corners of his beautiful, pink mouth, his lips still shining from their exchanged kisses. “Daichi, I would be honored.”

“Yeah?” he asked, thick emotion stuck in his throat as gratitude seeped into his bones.

“Yeah.” Sealing it with another sweet, slow kiss, Suga nodded. “Whatever you need, Daichi. I'm here for you both."

No words could ever begin to describe the bubbling swell that rushed through his nervous system, senses clouded with all that was Koushi Sugawara. Perhaps, this was what falling in love felt like. And Daichi couldn't quell the burning hope that Suga was feeling the exact same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, you GUYS. I can't even begin to describe what all of your comments and kudos have meant to me. I can't believe this fic has hit 20k views and almost 1000 likes and comments. Y'all, I am so blown away. We are back on the DaiSuga train and I think we all know what's next: Halloween and Nurse Suga / Baby Tobio time.
> 
> If you haven't yet, please come say 'hi' to me on Tumblr!! https://photogiraffe77.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Uh, real talk, do I update this too often? Like, I worry I just like, update all the time and I don't give it enough time for each chapter to settle. Idk, I'm just too excited and I love writing this so idk. ;_;
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL!! *sobs openly into laptop*


	20. Building Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. I love you all so much. Please enjoy this 8k chapter of a lot of fluff and *spice*. That's all I'm saying.
> 
> Oh, and it's formatted a wee bit different, but I hope you like it anyway. See you at the bottom, as always.
> 
> P.S. - Shoutout to MadamPresident2032 for her help with the KageHina Halloween costumes and for just absolutely everything. You are a wonderful friend, madam <3

“C’mon daddy, let’s go!” Tobio pulled on his dad’s hand trying to hurry him out the door. 

“Hang on buddy, just a second,” Daichi said, reaching for his wallet and his house keys sitting on the kitchen counter. It was just past 5:30, and Suga should be arriving at any moment. He had texted saying that his costume was taking a bit longer than initially planned to get ready since Tooru was helping him with his makeup, but that he was definitely on his way now. The plan was for the trio to meet up at the park down the street with the Hinata family and walk around the neighborhood. Suga assured Daichi that his neighborhood was a ‘prime candy spot’, and that some of the kids at school were spreading rumors of an old lady who gives out full-sized candy bars. 

“But daaaaaad!” Tobio dragged on, folding his arms across his chest, huffing a little. In one hand he held his jumbo candy bag, his little brows furrowing in impatience. “Shouyou is waiting for us!”

“I know buddy, but Nurse Suga is almost here,” Daichi assured, glancing down at the most recent text on his phone. “He is running just a few minutes late.”

Clearly, at the mention of Nurse Suga, Tobio relaxed a little, gaining back a little of his self-control and fortitude. The conversation about the upcoming trip had gone much better than Daichi had expected, and the young dad was pretty sure he had his boyfriend to thank for that. 

Tobio was absolutely enamored with ‘Nurse Suga’. Not since Kuroo had Daichi witnessed his son take a shine to someone so naturally. The blonde nurse was truly a gift, born with an innate ability to soothe, always bringing with him that angelic smile and those stunning, soft eyes. Just about anyone could feel comfortable around Suga, and perhaps that was what made him such a good nurse, especially in the school setting. Daichi had heard some stories about Suga’s job, and he knew that it wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies. But if anyone was suited for it, it was Suga. Just like how there was no one, apart from his family, that was more well-equipped to care for Tobio in Daichi’s absence. 

When the subject was broached, Daichi feared a meltdown. Not that Tobio was prone to those, but he had also never gone so long without his dad. Granted, it was only for a few days. However, in a six-year-old’s eyes, few days could feel like a few weeks, and that was something worth acknowledging. Thankfully, Tobio’s questions about the arrangement were simple: 

_How long will you be gone?_ _  
__(Just a few days, I’ll be back late on Wednesday night, so I’ll be there when you wake on Thursday morning.)  
__  
_ _Can we talk on the phone or talk on video?_ _  
__(Of course, we can. I’d miss you too much. We will talk every day.)  
__  
_ _Can I sleep here at our house or will I stay at Nurse Suga’s?_ _  
__(It will probably be easier to stay at home and have Suga sleep here.)  
__  
_ _Will I go to school with Nurse Suga?_ _  
__(yes, he will take you to school and bring you home every day.)_

All were relatively easy to answer and each assurance left Tobio more and more excited to spend time with his favorite gray-haired man. He was relieved to hear that they could Facetime and talk on the phone still and that daddy wasn’t going to miss Halloween, because it was important that he was there, too. Daichi promised to return quickly and bring back a souvenir or two, especially if he got a good behavior report. Incentives for Tobio were so easy, the little boy took great pride in being well-behaved and mild-mannered. There were only a handful of times that Daichi could ever recall a true outburst from his son, so that helped soothe his nervousness a little. 

“That’s the door!” yelled Tobio as he took off down the hall, heading toward the front room, chasing the sound of the faint knocking. Daichi called for him to walk and not run indoors, but those instructions fell on deaf ears as the heavy door was thrown open and a joyful and resounding ‘ _Nurse Suga!_ ’ filled the air. Before Daichi could round the corner and greet his boyfriend himself, Tobio let out a breathless, inspired ‘ _wow_ ’, sounding as if all the oxygen had been knocked from his lungs.

Once he stepped into the living room, Tobio’s little gasp made perfect sense. Standing before them was an image of heaven brought to earth in perhaps the most literal sense. To Daichi, Suga had always possessed an ethereal quality, something otherworldly and a tad untouchable, as though he were a glass sculpture forged at the hands of celestial beings. That was perhaps the first thing Daichi noticed about the nurse; everything about him always emitted love and light. And while there actually wasn’t harp music playing every time he entered a room, the brunette heard it regardless. But now, seeing how his boyfriend was dressed, Suga had quite literally transformed, manifesting to become every word synonymous with ‘perfection’, ‘exquisite’, and ‘sublime’. 

He was dressed in a white chiffon gown, and while it wasn’t form-fitting, it was still alluring, the hem hanging to just below his knees, giving a glimpse at pale, toned calves. Around his hips he wore a golden rope, cinched off and tied in a pretty bow, flattering his waistline. But the most beautiful part of all was his face, of course. Never had Daichi seen his boyfriend done up like that. 

Suga’s cheeks were highlighted with shimmering powder, gracing the very peaks of his cheekbones all the way back to his temples, making his bone structure appear all the more defined. The powder was silvery, but with a touch of pink, giving his skin the illusion that it had just been kissed by the gods themselves. Honey warm eyes were framed in metallic eyeliner, smoke gray, matching his hair. The lines were sharp and fierce, and the creases of his eyelids were dotted with a small array of sparkling jewels, crystalline and glowing. Even his eyeshadow was white, layered delicately above thick, pewter lashes. And finally, in his ash hair, he wore a flower crown composed of white calla lilies intertwined with woven hemp rope. The whole ensemble was simply breathtaking, and Daichi could only stand in awe of the majesty that was Koushi Sugawara. 

“Hi, Daichi,” Suga greeted sweetly as he rose back to full height. He had been bent in half, greeting his favorite six-year-old with a quick hug and a ‘hello’. “How are you?”

Daichi could only stand in his foyer with his mouth hanging open, struggling to make his brain formulate coherent thoughts. How was he? Well, currently, he was flustered. Bewitched. Dazed. All were perfectly accurate words for how he was feeling, yet all he managed to choke out was a stuttered, “g-good.”

Suga took a step closer, a small grin pulling at his lips, shining as though they had been covered in a shimmering gloss. Perhaps they had, and Daichi let his fantasy wander to perhaps it was flavored gloss. And if so, what flavor? Strawberry? Cherry?

 _Peaches_ , Daichi realized as Suga pressed his lips softly against the brunette’s unexpecting mouth, the slightly sticky coating making it all the harder for them to pull apart, their greeting sealed with a kiss. Had he not been so consumed by the taste of that citrus kiss, he would have realized that a headband was being pushed into dark hair. Suga pulled away only to lean forward once more, this time, his mouth next to Daichi’s ear. He spoke whisper-quiet against the shell as he said, “it looks like someone is horny tonight.”

In abject horror, Daichi reached for his hairline, one large hand pawing at something plastic and smooth. From his spot a few feet away, Tobio giggled. “Oh my gosh daddy, you and Nurse Suga match!” The second hand met the first as he traced the outline of whatever was in his hair. Sure enough, the plastic came to a point on each side, mirroring each other.

“I’m… a devil,” he said dumbly, realizing that the points were horns, a whole-body flush rushing through him. Odds were good that he was blushing, but that theory was confirmed by the time Koushi spoke again.

“Your face is even turning the right color.”

“I--” he started, struggling to find words. But he was quickly interrupted by his son, and for the first time ever, Daichi was grateful for Tobio’s impatience.

“Daddy! Let’s go! Nurse Suga is here now and they’re _waiting!_ ” Tobio pulled hard on his dad’s sleeve. Daichi had opted on just wearing jeans and a simple hoodie. But he supposed he liked the devil horns, too.

“Alright, let’s go.” Daichi snuck one last kiss on the angel’s lips before ushering them all out of the door.

\---------

“Oh, this was such a good idea!” Mrs. Hinata gushed from her spot beside Daichi and Suga. Her orange hair was tied back away from her face, and she wore simple kitty cat ears and a touch of face paint with matching Halloween earrings of cats sitting in pumpkins. Daichi felt warm watching her; he reminded her a bit of his own mother when she was younger. Speaking of the woman, he had texted Mama Sawamura some photos a few hours ago, and Aki had been absolutely ecstatic. “Sho wouldn’t stop talking about his costume.”

“How is his arm feeling?” Suga asked, ever the angel (literally). Turns out, his costume even had wings, he just had to get them out of the backseat of his car before they left the house. (They were difficult to wear while driving.)

“Oh, he still has some issues, but he’ll heal quickly. He’s just so excitable.” A few paces ahead, Tobio walked beside his best friend, carrying both of their bags of candy, probably an attempt to be chivalrous so Shouyou could hold his sister’s hand as they strolled down the street.

The boys were dressed as Nemo and Dory; Shouyou being Nemo, sporting his broken arm as his ‘lucky fin’. And Tobio was his dedicated Dory, always helpful and loving. And in between them was little Natsu, dressed as the little pink octopus that inked when she got scared. The trio was quite the set, and it made Daichi’s heart swell. Back in California, Tobio had had a difficult time making friends because he was usually quiet and just a bit cold toward new people, but it appeared that Shouyou had no issues with any of his quirks and idiosyncrasies.

“I’m so glad to hear it. I always tell kids that a good attitude helps them heal faster.” Suga smiled and it caused the little jewels around his eyes to shift, flashing beneath the orange street lamps. “In fact, if attitude alone could cure, I don’t think Shouyou would ever have an ailment.” 

That comment made Mrs. Hinata laugh, the sound of it warm, even in the cool fall air. It was a beautiful Halloween night; chilly, but not uncomfortably so. And a full, tangerine moon hung low in the sky as the last of the blues of twilight faded into black. All around them, children chattered and giggled, radiating an atmosphere of spooky, yet fun, holiday spirit.

Being out with Suga was nice, and Daichi only wished he could take the nurse’s hand, run his thumb over those knuckles in an action of gratitude; Daichi was simply just dumbfounded that Suga found joy in just being with them. There was surely some bar Halloween costume contest that Suga could be out winning, collecting both prize money and phone numbers from any man in the joint. But Suga stayed with him, acting as a part of the Sawamura family. The realization sent shivers down his spine and settled a soothing heat in his extremities. 

Suga and Mrs. Hinata had carried on a conversation while Daichi was lost in his thoughts, and suddenly, there was a slight shift in the air, just noticeable enough that Daichi caught on. Mrs. Hinata was giving them an expectant look, but it didn’t feel hostile in the slightest.

“I think you both are nice boys,” she commented, sounding as though she wasn’t just a few years older than them. “I hope you’re not holding back for my sake.”

“Sorry?” Daichi asked, glancing at Suga's face, then back to Shouyou’s mother’s. 

“Well, you’re together, right?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “I think you’re a cute pair.”

A wild blush rushed to Daichi’s cheeks and Suga giggled softly into his hand, the sound sweet and bubbly. He was relishing in Daichi’s embarrassment, and the young dad couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about it. The whole situation was quite humorous.

“Thank you,” Daichi stammered finally, eyes finding the asphalt pavement beneath his feet.

“We are together,” Suga added, intertwining his and Daichi’s fingers together. The blonde’s hands were just a touch cold from the fall air, but Daichi didn’t mind, not one bit. He would just have to warm them up. 

“Well, I figured!” Mrs. Hinata laughed. “I have a good sense about these things.” She paused a moment, tapping a thoughtful finger to her chin. “Either that or I can still read cues and looks like none other.”

“Daddy! Look!” Tobio exclaimed suddenly, running backward toward his dad, one little hand thrust upward. “This house was giving out popcorn balls!”

“Awesome buddy! Are you getting any Reeses?” The peanut butter and chocolate treats were Daichi’s weakness, and the Sawamura men had a deal that Tobio would save as many as he could for his dad.

“Yep, of course, daddy!” He smiled wide as Shouyou and Natsu joined him at his side. “How long can we stay out for?”

Daichi glanced at the red-headed mom. “I think Natsu probably has another hour in her.”

The three children hugged each other and let out a little squeal. “Let’s keep going, then!” Shouyou exclaimed, never one to be slowed down. ”There is a house up here that has spiderwebs in the trees and an inflatable pumpkin. It’s so cool!” 

A sense of belonging settled in Daichi’s bones as Suga gave his hand a warm squeeze, an assurance that what was to come was more than either of them could ever ask for. They were where they were supposed to be, with whom they were supposed to be, and Daichi never wanted the feeling to end.

\-----------

“Okay, you’re gonna listen to Suga and follow all of the rules, right?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“And no back talk.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Daichi’s eyes flicked Suga’s direction, the young dad still kneeling in front of his son. He was dressed down for the flight - light washed jeans, a zip-up hoodie, Nike sneakers on his feet, and his carry-on resting beside him. “And you promise to tell Suga if you need anything, right? Like if you get scared or lonely.”

To that, Tobio didn’t give a generic answer. Instead, he leaned forward and threw his arms around his father’s neck. “I promise,” he assured his dad, squeezing him a tight hug.

The scene made Suga’s eyes well with tears.

“Good boy, Tobes,” Daichi praised, pulling away so he could ruffle his son’s dark hair. The little boy giggled at the gesture, playfully trying to swat his father’s hand away. With a final kiss to Tobio’s forehead, Daichi rose back to full height. “I love you, buddy.”

“I love you too, daddy!”

When he turned toward Suga, the ash-blonde felt his heart race. There was a look in Daichi’s eye that was difficult to describe. It was almost loving, brimming with tenderness and gratitude. Those rich, warm brown eyes housed so much; they were so expressive, usually saying what Daichi couldn’t.

“Thank you, Koushi,” the brunette said demurely, voice almost lost to the hustle and bustle of the airport. Sunday night was waning by, and Daichi still needed to get through security and get to his gate. Suga had assumed that saying goodbye would be difficult and might take a while, so he ensured that his boyfriend arrived at the airport plenty early. He was good at planning like that.

“It’s not a problem.”

“I know it’s not,” Daichi said, taking a step forward. He cupped Suga’s cheek in his careful, heavy palm before giving him a slow and delicate kiss on the lips. “But still,” Suga’s eyes were closed so he could only feel the hot press of air on his lips, “it means so much.”

Suga brought his hand up to meet Daichi’s, the sensation of their kiss still lingering, buzzing on his lips. Their fingers intertwined, and they shared a deep, lingering look. “Go have a safe trip, Sawamura.”

“I sure will.”

“Call me when you land.”

“Of course.”

“Yeah, daddy, don’t forget!” Tobio piped up, clinging to his father’s other hand.

“I could never forget,” Daichi promised. 

Suga smiled. No matter how temporary the goodbye, it was loving someone that made saying it so very difficult.

\-----------

“My pumpkin pajamas don’t fit anymore,” Tobio announced, stepping out of his bedroom and into the hallway where Suga was patiently waiting for the little boy to change into his bedtime attire.

“They don’t?”

Tobio shook his head and held out his arms to demonstrate. Sure enough, his pants were high waters, and his shirt sleeves, which were meant to be long, stopped halfway up his wrist.

“Oh,” Suga said with a little giggle. “Those are a little too small. When did you get them?”

Tobio thought a moment before answering. “Uh, last year. Grandma bought them for me.”

“I think you’ve gotten too big. Why don’t you pick another pair and we’ll set those ones aside? Perhaps your dad needs to go through your closet and donate some of your clothes that don’t fit anymore.”

“And give them to the kids who need them?” Tobio asked, still standing in the doorway of his room.

“Yep, that’s right! But for now, do you have other jammies that fit?”

The brunette boy nodded the affirmative and retreated back into his room to try again. So far, this tiny pajama fiasco was shaping up to be the only bump in the road since they returned to the Sawamura home. Tobio was relatively quiet in the car, though the nurse had been prepared for tears. It was only natural. By the sounds of it, the father and son pair had spent very little time apart for the duration of Tobio’s life. Previously, Tobio would stay with his grandmother or his uncle if Daichi had to go out of town, softening the emotional blow that came with the separation. 

Suga’s goal for the next few days was to keep Tobio so occupied and busy that time would seem to fly by until his father returned. He thought this might help from feeling too sad while also giving them adequate time to bond. Superficially, Tobio seemed to really care for Suga. And while he had never put much thought into becoming a parent or even a step-parent, if he was going to have a future with Daichi, it would most certainly include Tobio. The next few days were going to act as a trial run, and Suga wanted to shine.

A moment later, Tobio resurfaced dressed in new pajamas, these ones with black cats printed all over them. On the front of the top it read ‘ _I’m the Cat’s Meow_ ’ and featured a sparkly red bow tie on top of a cartoon cat’s head, the creature boasting midnight black fur and large golden eyes. Strangely, it reminded Suga of someone.

“Okay, I am ready now!” Tobio announced proudly.

“These ones are really cute,” Suga said with a smile. “I like your cat’s bow tie.”

“Thanks! Uncle Roo bought me these.” He did a little spin as if to better show off his sleepwear. “Uncle Roo loves kitty cats but daddy says we can’t have one because he’s allergic.”

“Well, that’s too bad!”

“I know, right?” Tobio let out a little huff as he headed into his room, plopping down on his twin bed. “It’s not fair.”

“Your dad doesn’t mean to be allergic, it’s not something he can help.”

Tobio sighed and laid back, letting his hair fall against his pillow. “I know, I just want a kitty cat.”

“I know, bud.” In an attempt to move on, Suga flicked on the nightlight Daichi had told him about, sending a colorful array of little stars onto the ceiling. “Are you ready for bed now?”

“Will you read me a bedtime story?” 

“Sure, buddy. Do you have a favorite book?” 

Tobio shook his head, only pointing to the bookshelf across from his bed. On it was several rows of books, Daichi obviously taking great care to ensure his son was a reader. Suga took a moment to choose one, then returned to the edge of the bed. Tobio was cuddled under his blanket, his fish plush tucked under his arm, his blue eyes already looking sleepy and soft. 

“Which one did you pick?” Tobio asked, pulling his fish closer to his face so the plush fabric was pressed adorably to his cheek.

“It’s called ‘ _The Sleepy Polar Bear’_.” At the mention of the title, Tobio let out a little excitable gasp, pretty blue eyes sparkling under the twinkle of his galaxy night light.

And as Suga read the story, detailing an account of a little baby polar bear who wouldn’t go to sleep, an unrelenting wave of longing washed over him. As Tobio’s enthusiastic commentary turned to gentle snoozes, Suga couldn’t help but wish that there would be more nights like this, but with Daichi also by their side. Not since all of the devastation and heartbreak brought on by his own biological family did he allow himself to think he could find something similar once again. Sure, the Iwaizumis would always be his family, that much was true. But this was different… this filled in a hole he didn’t even realize was empty. 

He kissed Tobio’s forehead goodnight, returned the book to the shelf, and wandered back into the otherwise empty house with a dream burning in his heart, one of wedding bells and family snuggles and unconditional love.

\------------

“Watch this, Tobio-chan! It’s all about the swing of your hip, not just wildly flinging your foot in the air.”

The living room furniture had been pushed aside, making just enough room for a rudimentary dance floor. On the flatscreen TV, Tooru had pulled up his favorite dance songs, filtering through them and taking the time to teach Tobio the basics. Suga watched from the kitchen, a hand towel over his shoulder while his homemade spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove. 

“Like this?” the brunette boy asked, doing his best to emulate the move Tooru had just shown him. Suga wasn’t a pro like his best friend, but even he could see that Tobio’s little stocking foot was perfectly pointed. He was impressed; Tobio seemed like a real natural. 

“That’s so good!” Tooru praised, earning an extremely wide grin from the little boy. The TV channel cycled to the next song, and Tooru transitioned into a new lesson. Given the steady stream of elated giggles and the blinding smile plastered to Tobio’s face, Suga felt immensely grateful for his best friend’s company. 

The first night had gone fine, but today during school, Tobio was noticeably a bit down, so it was a relief to see him perking up again. The morning routine and car ride went as normal as possible, and Suga took good care to pack Tobio’s lunch. Daichi had written a note for each day that he was gone and asked that Suga include them in his son’s lunch. Of course, the blonde lovingly obliged the request. The first note read:

_Hey brave boy. Be good at school and for Suga. I love you more than you can ever know. Just a few more days, sweetheart.  
Love, daddy _

Reading it damn near made Suga’s heart burst, and if he had doubts that he was falling in love with Daichi before, they were dashed once reading those notes. Never had he met such a gentle and wholesome human being, and Suga thanked his lucky stars that the universe had allowed their paths to cross.

Without the two dancers noticing, Suga pulled out his phone and began to record. He would send it to Daichi later because he certainly deserved to see his son wear that adorable grin while he spun in circles hoping to achieve a perfect pirouette. 

\------------

“Nurse Suga?” 

The tiny little voice was shaking Suga from his dream. He had been on a beach somewhere with Daichi, far away with margaritas in hand. Ever since he had been sleeping in his boyfriend’s bed, completely surrounded by the brunette’s thick, comforting scent, he had been having dreams about Daichi. 

Blinking slowly, Suga’s honey eyes peeled open to see Tobio standing at the side of the bed, his fish tucked under his chin, black hair mussed on his head, messy from sleep. 

“Hey, Tobes,” Suga greeted, the words heavy as the fog of his dream still swirled in his head. “Are you alright?” he questioned, propping up on one elbow.

Tobio shook his head. “I had a bad dream.” He sounded a bit tearful, but it was hard to tell for sure. The only light in the space poured from the cracked bedroom door, leaking in a dull yellow glow from the hall.

“You did?” Holding out his arms, Suga offered the little boy a bit of comfort, and like a magnet, Tobio latched on. He began sniffling, clearly upset by whatever had occurred in his own dream world. 

“Oh, baby,” Suga cooed, smoothing a hand down the little curls at the base of his neck. They were matted with sweat, all the more evidence of his distress. “You’re okay, it was just a bad dream.”

“I know,” he whined, "I just miss daddy.”

After dinner, Tobio and Suga had spent the rest of the evening on Facetime with Uncle Roo, followed immediately by a long call with Daichi. He looked very tired, and he was doing his best to make sure he had everything squared away so he could catch the late flight home on Wednesday night instead of Thursday afternoon. Hajime assured Daichi he would pay for either flight, so long as his work was all done. And Daichi _promised_ Tobio he would work hard so that his son would wake up to find his dad in the kitchen come Thursday morning.

Suga hugged Tobio tighter. “I know baby, but it’s just a few more days.”

“I miss mommy, too.”

The blonde felt equipped to handle almost any situation when it came to kiddos, but not this. The cause behind Yui’s death was still a mystery to him, and he had plans to find out more from Daichi in time. He wished he knew how to handle the sweet boy’s sadness, how to deal with his loss, help him through it all.

So he did what he could only hope for when he was that age and needed comfort: he hugged Tobio to his chest, kissed the top of his head, and rubbed small circles in his back. “You’re such a beautiful boy, Tobio. I’m right here for you.”

The tears continued for several moments, and Suga rocked back and forth, humming a tune low in his throat. The song was one he had learned in choir all those years ago, a Japanese lullaby with its origins rooted in warding away evil spirits. He had forgotten some of the words, but never the tune. And as his tenor voice carried, filling the small space, Tobio began to relax, his tense body turning to putty. Much to the nurse’s relief, the sobs seemed to slow as the little boy drifted back to sleep, his cheeks still flush and warm with tears. 

“Good night, sweet boy,” Suga whispered in his ear, continuing to hum until sleep caught up to him, too.

\------------

“Do you miss your daddy?”

Tobio and Shouyou sat shoulder to shoulder at lunchtime, as was their normal routine. It was Tuesday, which meant daddy was supposed to be back tomorrow night. That’s also what the note in his lunch box said:

_One more whole day, sweetheart. Be good, eat all of your carrot sticks. Tell Shoyou this joke, he’ll really like it -_

_‘What’s a tree’s favorite drink?’ ‘Root beer!’ Tell me tonight how much he laughed._

_Love and miss you! ~ Daddy_

“Yeah,” Tobio said, taking a long sip of his chocolate milk. Staying with Nurse Suga was a lot of fun, and he took really good care of him. Plus, his spaghetti was the best, not that he would tell daddy that. He didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Daddy’s food was good, but Nurse Suga’s was just a little bit better.

“You know, I miss my dad a lot, too.” Shoyou chewed thoughtfully on his peanut butter sandwich, little feet kicking aimlessly underneath the table. Around them, the other kids were lively with chatter, talking about Halloween still and their upcoming field trip to the zoo and how Tommy spilled the Lego bucket at indoor recess. 

“You do?”

“Mhm!” Shoyou hummed, not bothering to swallow down his bite. “Right now he is away at special training learning how to drive a humvee in case he has to go back to Afga…” he trailed off, struggling with the word. “Afgan… is-stand? I think that’s how you say it.”

“When does he get back?” Tobio asked, suddenly feeling a little more connected to his best friend. He remembered that Sho’s dad was in the military, so he had to go away sometimes. But he didn’t realize how much he’d miss his dad. It was different from how he missed his mom. Daddy was a permanent part of his life, always a constant. But his mommy was someone he never got a chance to know.

“Mommy says in a couple of weeks. We get to talk to him on video chat, but he can’t always talk long.”

“Oh,” Tobio said softly, staring down at his carrot sticks.

“It’s okay, don’t be sad. Your daddy will be home soon and so will mine.” 

Tobio smiled softly but didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Tobi?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to hold hands?”

In a silent response, their hands met under the table, Tobio’s cheeks growing warm. He didn’t say anything else as Sho chattered away, only ate his carrots and focused on the comforting weight of his best friend’s hand.

\------------

Brownies.

Suga could make brownies, no biggie. That was easy stuff in the realm of baking. What wasn’t easy, however, was getting Tobio to accurately measure ingredients. It wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things, sure, but it definitely slowed Suga down in the kitchen.

“Daddy is going to love these!” Tobio exclaimed as he stirred the flour and sugar and egg together. They were dressed in matching aprons, and Suga was impressed that Daichi even had such an accessory in his home. He surmised it was a gift from the Sawamura mother, as they were hand-embroidered with a little black ‘S’ on the pocket of each. It brought a smile to his face because it made him realize that they shared the same last initial.

“You think so?” Suga’s hands were busy chopping up the baking chocolate so that it would be easier to soften.

“Yep! Daddy loves fudge brownies!” 

That fact was solid information for his back pocket. Should Suga ever get into hot water or need to win his man back over, he could whip up a batch of the brunette’s favorite dessert. Not that he planned on ever screwing up, but hey, he was human too, and having a card up his sleeve was helpful.

Soft music floated out of the Bluetooth speaker, Suga’s playlist composed of mostly acoustic pop covers and upbeat music. It set the perfect tone for baking. The blonde sang along, much to Tobio’s delight, prompting the little boy to join in, even using his mixing spoon as a makeshift microphone. It was sweet, just spending time together. He wished Daichi were there to share it with them, but after the last three days, Suga was feeling hopeful about moving forward. If he wasn’t able to cultivate a relationship with Tobio, he would never have a future with Daichi.

Thinking back on their time together, it was hard to believe how much ground they had covered in such a short time. Only two and a half months had gone by since that shy, fumbling, gorgeous dad entered Suga’s office to pick up his son. And maybe their relationship had been slow-moving in some regard, but Suga didn’t mind; he had the rest of his life to keep falling in love with Daichi. 

“Ready to put these in the oven, buddy?” Suga asked as Tobio mixed in the last of the ingredients. 

With a shimmering sparkle in his eye and a tiny glob of brownie batter on his cheek (confirmation that he had indeed snuck in a few bites of their concoction), Tobio nodded. “Let’s do it!”

\-----------

“How was he today?” Daichi asked, voice even and smooth and just a touch tired. It was getting late, and even though Daichi and Tobio had Facetimed briefly after school, (Daichi was in between meetings), the brunette had made it a specific point that he wanted to video chat with Suga later that night once he made it back to the hotel.

“He was so good, Daichi,” Suga gushed, propping himself up on one elbow. “Didn’t fight me on supper, though he did say my spaghetti was better than yours. Also my meatloaf.” He paused a moment, thinking back on Tobio’s words. “Actually, I think he likes all of my food better.”

The nurse had made himself perfectly at home in Daichi’s big bed, his legs curled under the plush, gray duvet cover. The master bedroom was simple- a dark, king-size sleigh bed with matching wardrobe and end tables, a small TV on the dresser, warm lamps on either nightstand, one turned on, the other, off. At the foot of the bed was a short wooden bench that Daichi seemed to store his workout sneakers under. Suga guessed that in the evenings, those crisp, leather Cole Haans occupied the space instead. It was all so charming and simple and so very Daichi, it made Suga’s chest feel fuzzy. Being surrounded by every part of the man, and not Daichi himself, was a bit maddening, and it made him really think about just how attached he had become to the young dad.

“Wow, what a traitor,” Daichi joked, rolling his umber eyes. He, too, was in bed and totally shirtless. Even though his blanket was pulled up just past his naval, the position still allotted plenty of tanned flesh and rippling muscle for Suga’s eyes to roam over. It was clear that Daichi took care of himself if the treadmill and expensive weight set and kettlebell collection in the open office was anything to go by. 

“Mmm,” Suga hummed, half-listening, too focused on seeing more of Daichi than he had before. Sure, he had run his hands all over that defined torso, but he had yet to view it in its full glory. It wasn’t as good as in person, because how could it be? But a show was still a show, and Suga would relish in the opportunity to get his fill.

“Are you even listening?” 

Suga ran a flitting tongue over his bottom lip, completely unaware that was what he was doing. It was merely an involuntary reaction to such a breathtaking sight. “I’m sorry, Daichi, you can’t _not_ wear a shirt and expect me to focus wholly on what you’re saying.”

“Koushi, are you flirting with me?” There was a teasing lilt in his voice as a sparkle came to his eyes.

“Never.” In an attempt to assure his solidarity, Suga placed a hand over his heart. “I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

“I don’t believe you.” A sexy smirk pulled at this full lips at that comment, and Suga felt his knees quake. 

“I think you started it first, Sawamura.”

“Oh? Enlighten me.”

“You’re the one who summoned me on video chat basically naked, Daichi. You were begging to be flirted with.”

A dark, coy eyebrow shot up his head. “So you admit that you _were_ flirting.”

 _Fuck_. “I admit to nothing.” He stuck his nose up in the air and turned his head to both hide his shameful blush and emphasize his disdain for Daichi’s implication. 

“You look really good in my bed, Koushi.” There was a firm, husky tone to his voice, one that Suga had never heard before. Tentatively, he let his eyes fall back to the screen. Sure enough, Daichi was still there, a hungry expression on his face. It sent a pleasing little shiver down the blonde’s spine.

“Oh, do I?”

Daichi hummed in confirmation. “Yeah, of course-- Oh my god, are you wearing one of my football shirts?”

Suga looked down at himself and pulled teasingly at the soft cotton fabric, showing it off to the camera. “I just really missed you, Daichi,” he explained, biting gently at his own bottom lip. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Daichi cursed under his breath, cheeks turning red, flushing with what Suga hoped was arousal. His free hand slapped to his forehead in a desperate ‘smack’ as he uttered the profane speech, dark eyes falling half-lidded. 

“It smells like you,” he continued, bringing the hem of the too-large top to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling. A glimpse of his pale stomach was revealed by the action, and Daichi literally growled.

“Koushi, god damn.” Suga had noticed something about his boyfriend - the more turned on he got, the filthier his mouth became. It was probably just a habit brought on by his frustration. Daichi had more self-restraint than any man Suga had ever met, himself included. Were it up to the blonde, he and Daichi would have sealed the deal that night after the bar. But he was a patient man, and Daichi was more than worth waiting for.

“What is it, Daichi?” Flirting, coy looks were Suga’s specialty.

“I thought you were supposed to be an angel.”

To that, Suga gave a playful huff. “What, do I not look angelic?”

“You are sin on two legs.”

A gray eyebrow arched at that comment. “Oh, did you think naughty thoughts when you saw my costume?”

A low, unrestrained chuckle left Daichi’s lips. “You’re joking, right? All of my thoughts once seeing you were extremely unholy. I can never step foot in a church again. I am now banned from the Vatican, actually. The Pope wrote me a letter.”

“Boo-hoo,” Suga teased, pouting his lips. “I suppose there are worse things.”

Daichi took the bait. “Such as?” 

“Feeling extremely frisky when your boyfriend is 500 miles away, and you’re all alone in his bed.” Suga hiked his shirt up once again as if to emphasize his point. Even thru the small digital screen, it was blatantly obvious how much of Daichi’s irises were lost to lust-blown pupils.

All in all, Daichi had proven to be the most patient and reserved of the two, always resigning them, reeling their touches back in before they could wander past the PG-13 arena. Though once the brunette opened his mouth, the tables took an unexpected turn. “Put my shirt in your mouth.”

The command caught the blonde off guard, sending heat immediately to pool in his belly and rush to his favorite appendage. 

The camera was focused on Daichi’s chest and face, but it appeared as though his free hand had disappeared from the view of the lens, sliding somewhere south that Suga couldn’t see. He looked so gorgeous, the soft light of the hotel lamp casting shadows on his masculine face. It illuminated those rich, chocolate eyes and highlighted the strong cut of his jaw that was graced with the slightest five o’clock shadow. 

At the sight of it all, Suga could only bring himself to obey, curling the hem upward, doing it at snail’s pace as to reveal every inch as proactively as possible. Daichi’s breath hitched in his throat and a small, yet still audible groan left his lips. 

“Like this?” It was a pointless question, Suga knew exactly what he was doing as he slipped the fabric between his teeth, saliva darkening the soft cotton. The wanton look in Daichi’s eyes only egged him on further. With the hand not holding the phone, Suga allowed his fingers tips to brush up the exposed expanse of his stomach, coming to rest just below a pert, blushing nipple.

“ _Koushi_ ,” Diachi’s voice sounded breathless, even over the phone. He was looking now with extreme reverence, as though he were absolutely dumbfounded that something like this was unfolding between them. At that moment, he faltered a bit, wavering. “Koushi, wait, I should probably--”

“Shh,” Suga soothed lovingly, all the more he could say with his mouth occupied. Electricity danced on the tip of his touch as he made a connection with one of the eager buds. Pre-Daichi, self-stimulation occurred as more of a necessity than an act he really enjoyed, and it had been so long since anyone, himself included, had touched his chest with the intention of pleasure. And god, did it feel _good._ It would feel so much better if it were Daichi’s hands or even his tongue, but this would do for now. Just knowing his boyfriend was watching made it all the more magnetic, all the more satisfying, all the more heated. "Just look at me," his words muffled by his shirt.

“You are so beautiful.” 

Men had whispered those words to Suga before. He may not have heard them as often as Tooru once did, but they were still said, uttered with worthless intentions. Most of the time, the compliment felt cheap, sentiments simply thrown around in an attempt to woo him. But when Daichi was saying it with _that_ tone of voice and _that_ look in his eye, it was nearly enough to make Suga find release on the heartfelt praise alone.

“Will you touch me?” Suga asked, letting the shirt fall back down a little, catching on the top of his palm. “When you come home?” There was a neediness to those words he didn’t recognize, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t mind being needy for his boyfriend.

He would be that and so much for Daichi.

“Yeah,” the brunette rasped. It was all the more obvious now what Daichi was doing, the tightening of his bare bicep taking on an uncharacteristic strain. “God, Suga, I just want to touch you all over. And kiss you, and hold you and I--” his jaw tightened and garbled expletive left him.

“Will you let me touch you, too?” God, he wanted to touch Daichi so badly. There was so much he wanted to explore, help Daichi discover. He wanted to figure out what turned the brunette on, what made him squirm, what made him moan, what forced him to toss his head back into the pillow as he came. Suga didn’t want to just learn; he wanted to memorize it, etch into his own body, engrain it in his soul. 

“Yes, Koushi, _yes._ ” Hot tears pricked the corner of the businessman’s eyes as he bit down on hard on his lip with so much force, Suga would be surprised if it didn't draw blood. Finally, heavy lids fell to a close, thick black lashes wet with tears. “ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed, a carmine flush taking to his whole body, ruddying his cheeks and painting his whole neck and chest in a gorgeous ruby red.

Suga let his shirt fall as he laid back into the bed, staring in awe of what had just happened. Daichi looked extremely emotional as he rolled onto his side. The camera tilted away then, pointing so all that Suga could see was the very edge of Daichi’s left ear and the blinding white of the hotel wallpaper behind him.

“Babe?” Suga called out tentatively, anxiety taking to his lungs, not realizing how labored his breathing had become. 

This was completely unplanned. 

They would need to talk about it. 

The thrum of his heartbeat roaring in his ears nearly made him miss Daichi’s reply.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Dai--”

“Suga, god, I’m so sorry.”

“ _Daichi_ ,” Suga said a little more firmly. “Look at me.”

“I got too carried away,” he tried to explain, ignoring Suga’s request. He sounded as if he was far away, even though he was still right next to the phone. “I can’t believe I did that. I care about you more than just your body. I--”

“Daichi, I know that.” It was his turn to interrupt. He was not going to sit idly by while his boyfriend guilt-tripped himself about enjoying a little harmless phone sex. Aside from their exposed chests, neither man saw a new part of the other’s body. Suga was relieved at that; he wanted to see all of Daichi for the first time in person, but this was still a big step. It confirmed that Daichi was in fact attracted to him and that he trusted Suga. Maybe the buffer of the distance helped a little, alleviating some of the pressure that tended to build when they were in person. This was through the phone: no one had to be perfect or overthink. It was an excellent first step, especially for such a shy and inexperienced person like Daichi.

“You treat me so well, Dai. I…” he let his words trail off. “It feels really good, to open up to each other like this.”

There was an ear-shattering moment of silence before Daichi spoke again. "But you didn’t get off.” 

That comment made Suga giggle. “The night is still young and I haven’t showered yet.” The first half of his statement was hardly true as the clock crept past midnight.

“Kou--”

“ _Stop_ .” It was offered with a little more force than intended, but it had to be said. “Daichi, this was _fun_. Like, amazingly fun.”

“I didn’t last long.”

He waved it away with his hand; it didn't matter. “I feel complimented.”

Finally, Daichi laughed, angling the phone back to show at least one side of his face. He looked really tired and sated, and that filled Suga with a sense of pride. He couldn’t wait to wear Daichi out for real. “I am excited to see you tomorrow," the brunette admitted, voice thick.

“I’ll be here in your bed, waiting for you.” Daichi’s flight was coming in on a red-eye, and the young dad was opting just to get an Uber back to the house so as to not disrupt his son’s sleep routine.

“You’re really not mad?” _Who could be mad at that face?_

“Never,” Suga assured him, giving a sweet smile. “Just make it up to me when you’re here next.”

While the embarrassment still touched his cheeks, Daichi powered through it. This time, it didn't take him long at all to answer. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thousand kudos. I repeat: _one thousand kudos_!!! WHAT!
> 
> I love you guys so much. Thank you for all of your continued support. I live for your comments and feedback, seriously!! You are such a blessing, you have no idea. 
> 
> I know this chapter had shorter scenes, but I hoped you liked it anyway! It was a bit different but I had so much fluff I wanted to squeeze in!!
> 
> I am working on a Christmas project that is KageHina that I *really* need to get it finished so I can post it on the 25th. So if I don't update this fic before then, that's why lmao. But keep an eye out for it, it's going to be a cute one-shot that is really sweet and a lot of fun. So if we don't talk before then, happy holidays! Be safe and well and know that you are so stinking loved!!
> 
> BTW- did y'all like the spice?! Well, buckle up. :)


	21. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, it's me, A-Mario! JK - it's me, Autumn, back with an update. Soooo this is kind of a 'filler' chapter, but every time I say that y'all say it's not. I had another scene that was going to be in here, but once I got to typing, I thought the chapter would be too long if I added it. Basically, it's gonna be the whole next chapter so... yeah. 
> 
> Okay, enough rambling! Below is a TW that I want to share. It is a bit of a spoiler, so be aware. It doesn't cover anything that we haven't already covered in this fic so far, but I always like to include them. See you at the bottom!! 
> 
> TW: referenced drug addiction, childhood trauma, abandonment issues. Also, mild (referenced!) sexually explicit content.

The flight time was a little under two hours, but to Daichi, it felt more like an eternity. Right before he took off, he managed one last phone call with Suga, ensuring his boyfriend to go ahead and get some sleep and that Daichi would greet him when he arrived home. It was such a warming thought, knowing that Suga, the man he was falling head over heels for, was quite literally waiting at home, in his bed. It was also a bit dizzying, feeling so surreal as though he wouldn’t believe it until he saw it with his own two eyes.

In an attempt to occupy the flight, which was basically empty, given the late hour, Daichi busied himself with research for Tobio’s birthday party. It was just a few days before his own, after all, and turning seven was going to be a big deal. He landed on a few solid ideas, which included bowling or even ice skating, but he thought he would get Suga’s opinion on the venues prior to booking. Not to mention, he still needed to order a gift for Kuroo’s birthday, which was only two weeks away. 

Once landing, he sent a quick text to his best friend and his mother, letting them both know he made it safely back to Kansas City. Even though it was likely that Kuroo was still awake, he didn’t want to disturb them if they were resting, especially his mom. 

Grabbing his luggage from the carousel, he caught an Uber. With the late hour and the minimal traffic, it made the trip to his house relatively quick. That was good, because he was tired but so very anxious to see his family. (He didn’t have the energy to process that he already thought of Suga as a part of his family.) 

As quietly as possible, he entered his home, making sure to disarm the security alarm set by the front door as he entered, stopping to rearm it once fully inside. Unsurprisingly, the house was dark, the only light coming from the fixture over the sink. However, even in the dim setting, Daichi could tell that it was spotless. 

With a sigh and a smile, he quickly removed his suit jacket. He had been in too big of a hurry to change clothes before heading to the airport. Feeling just a bit guilty for already messing Suga’s handiwork, he let the jacket hang on the back of one of the dining chairs, opting to fetch it tomorrow. It probably needed to be taken to the dry cleaners anyway. 

He dug through his luggage to remove a small box. It had been carefully packaged, nestled in cardboard and styrofoam. Even before putting in his bag, he wrapped in one of his hoodies, just to be double safe. Getting Tobio a souvenir was the least he could, considering all the ‘dad guilt’ he felt for leaving his child for a few days. Despite knowing that it happened to all parents and was unavoidable, especially in a single-parent scenario, he couldn’t seem to keep that sinister feeling at bay. Though once he unwrapped the gift with the knowledge that it would bring Tobio a lot of joy, it helped lift the guilt a little.

Keeping as quiet as possible, he began the ascent upstairs, leaving his bag behind. There was nothing in there he needed tonight, anyway. He used travel or disposable toiletries and left the good stuff at home. Once reaching the upstairs hallway, he was relieved to see that the night light had been left on. Tobio was scared of the dark, and he refused to go to the bathroom if the little moon and stars plug-in wasn’t working.

With a quiet turn of the brass knob, Daichi poked his head around the corner of the doorframe. Curled up in a perfect little ball, stuffed fish angled under his arm, mouth open to let out perfect little snoozes, Tobio was there: safe, sound, and fast asleep. It almost felt pathetic that after only three-ish days away, he could grow to miss his son so much. But there he was, pure, serene, so innocent and sweet. Suga had filled him in with nothing but good reports regarding the six-year-old. There were no fights at bedtime, his homework was always done, even dinner and bathtime had gone smoothly, two subjects that were sometimes difficult, depending on Tobio’s mood. Just like the resilient, brave, and soft-hearted child he always was, nothing changed, not even while his dad was gone.

Hot tears pricked at the corners of Daichi’s eyes as he lowered Tobio’s gift to the nightstand. The souvenir was a snowglobe from Navy Pier, complete with a replica of the boardwalk, including the shops and ferris wheel. Once, while they lived in California, they had visited Santa Monica together and enjoyed riding on the giant ferris wheel, getting a wonderful view of the city, pier, and ocean. At his conference, Daichi and a few colleagues had eaten dinner together at a nice restaurant located on Navy Pier. They had sat in a booth with an excellent look at the giant, titanium carnival ride, the wheel bedecked with white lights. All the while, the young dad couldn’t help but think about how much Tobio would enjoy riding it, just like he had back in Santa Monica.

“Hey Tobes,” he whispered as he lowered himself to the carpet, crouching beside his son’s tiny twin bed. Soft, dark hair fell over Tobio’s forehead, tousled lightly from his sleep. Leaning forward, Daichi kissed the top of his head, getting a whiff of his strawberry shampoo. Carefully, he carded his fingers through the fine strands, letting his heavy palm cup the side of Tobio’s face. It was almost ridiculous how much he missed his son in such a short amount of time, and the whole trip, Daichi didn’t cry. Though while he certainly felt like crying now, he resisted. He refused to wake his son up, especially when a growing boy needed rest. And aside from that, it would undoubtedly cause him to panic should he open his eyes to find his dad crying after so many days apart.

Instead, he opted for one final kiss to the crown of Tobio’s head, letting it linger for just a few moments before pulling away. There would never be anything more precious to him than his baby boy; his sweet, gentle child. Even almost seven years later, it floored Daichi at just how blessed he was to parent such an incredible human. He could count on all the lucky stars in the universe, and it still wouldn’t touch the sheer amount of reverence and gratitude he felt toward Yui for bringing such a perfect life into the world.

Finally, he rose to his feet, and as silently as he entered, he exited, pausing only to throw a faint whisper over his shoulder, “goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

The door closed with a soft ‘click’, the sound a little too loud in the otherwise silent house. He took a quick moment to breathe, inhaling the familiar scent of his home, gathering the courage to make his way down the hall to the master bedroom. 

They hadn’t talked about it - the Facetime call. It was a big step, marking the beginning of something new. Daichi had never traversed such a path since realizing his sexuality, and it was as scary as it was fulfilling. In his thoughts, he harbored desires, things he had never acted on out of fear. Yes, he absolutely noticed other men, and he longed for other men, but not like he did with Suga. Never had someone spiked his interest like the ash-blonde did, with his angelic features and devilish tongue. Also, never had he felt so comfortable before, like it was okay to act on his urges and desires.

But still, even with that knowledge, doubts lingered. He was so scared that he was pushing too fast, or asking too much. Suga had reassured him on the phone that he enjoyed it, too, despite him not finding climax, at least not while they were on the call. It was also just a touch embarrassing. He was a grown ass man, for god’s sakes. The prematurity of his release made him feel like a hormone-crazed schoolboy, the thought of it all sent heat rushing to his face. 

The only thing left to do was see Suga, and that’s what he intended. Cracking the door to his own bedroom, he repeated the action from a moment ago, craning his neck around the doorframe to see if his boyfriend was still awake. Just the tiniest sliver of light filtered in from the hallway, sending a stripe of muted orange across Suga’s sleeping frame. Like a lithe cat, he slept on his side, back to the door. The soft duvet fell around him, hugging the curve of his hip, tracing the length of his long, svelte legs. His ashen hair fell over the crisp white pillowcase. And from his spot still in the doorway, Daichi watched as Koushi’s light breathing caused his back to expand, then soften, rustling the cotton fabric of yet another one of Daichi’s old t-shirts. The sight was endearing and arousing, all in the same breath.

With practiced guile, he stepped into the room, shutting the door, sealing it in black. As his eyes adjusted to the newfound darkness, the glow from the alarm clock, as well as the bright moonlight outside, aided him as he sneaked around. Carefully, he removed his dress shirt and pants, working quietly as to not jostle the metal of the belt buckle. He abandoned his clothes in the hamper beside the en suite bathroom door before disappearing inside to wash his face and freshen up. 

When he reemerged a few minutes later, he felt a little more human. No longer did he have the grime of travel on him. Sure, he hadn’t taken a full shower like he would have wanted, but just being able to brush his teeth, wash his face, and change into the sweatpants and t-shirt Suga had so thoughtfully left on the bathroom counter with a note reading ‘ _ cuddle clothe _ s’ made all the world of difference. 

At long last, the moment he had awaited (and fretted over) finally arrived. Peeling back the duvet, he slowly slid under the blanket, taking his rightful position next to Suga. As the mattress dipped, the nurse stirred ever so gently. In a flutter of pewter lashes, reminiscent of the elegant trembling of butterfly wings, Suga’s honey eyes came open. The action stole Daichi’s breath away, truly, the life-giving oxygen vacating his lungs in a hushed rush. Never, in all of his life, had Daichi seen something so lovely.

“Dai?” came the sleepy call, Suga’s tenor voice so sweet and laden with sleep. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” he greeted, sidling in next to his boyfriend, resting his head on the pillow. 

Blearily, Suga blinked, as though trying to come back to himself, attempting to shake off the lingering weight of his dream. A little yawn passed his pretty, parted lips. “Welcome home, baby.” The pet name, though offered in a state of delirium, rattled him to his core, squeezing at his heart. 

“Thank you,” Daichi murmured in reply, doing his damndest to regain the shake in his voice. God, was Suga absolutely fucking perfect.

“C’mere,” he instructed, holding out his left arm, his right still curled under the pillow. Never one to leave a request unfilled, Daichi slid across the cool sheets until he was met with the warmth of his boyfriend’s proffered limb. Despite his half-awake condition, Suga was still relatively strong, and before he knew it, Daichi was being pulled into a kiss.

Their lips met in a feverish collision, the smaller man’s mouth so pliant, the faintest taste of peppermint still lingering behind. Unable to contain himself, Daichi allowed his right hand to thread in the back of Suga’s silken hair, the strands at the nape so velveteen. Like the coy minx he was, the young nurse mirrored the gesture, only instead letting his free hand snake up the back of Daichi’s shirt, fingertips roving over the dense layer of muscle there. 

Kissing Suga was like coming home, and not just in the literal sense. Being able to touch him, to hold him, to hear his laugh - it was all like arriving at a long-awaited destination only to find it was so much more amazing than you could have ever dreamed. And as a pale, exposed thigh maneuvered beneath the blanket, positioning itself between both of Daichi’s very thick legs, a low moan escaped his throat. There was nothing he could do to govern it, to mute it before it spilled into Suga’s conjoined mouth, vibrating the smaller man to life.

With a heaving breath, Daichi pulled away, eyes falling half-lidded. Suga was a dream, right? He had to be. There was no way that someone could look so sinful yet downright heavenly. Twin, gray eyebrows were furrowed in a look of concern yet arousal. Suga’s hand curled tight, forming a fist against Daichi’s back where his skin was starting to gather the slightest sheen of sweat.

“Is this a dream?” There was a nervous lilt present in Suga’s voice. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily in his throat, as though he were anxious to know the answer to that question.

“Would dream Daichi do this?” the brunette inquired, boldly leaning forward to capture his boyfriend’s lips in yet another wet kiss, a heated exchange of desperate tongues and longing lips. 

“Oh,” Suga all but purred as they parted, words thick with want as they hung in the miniscule space present between them, “you haven’t the faintest idea of what dream Daichi is capable of.”

A soft chuckle escaped Daichi at that comment, the flirting reaching too much of a high for nearly two in the morning following a hellish day. He had been awake for twenty hours straight by that point, and he could tell by the tired rasp in Suga’s voice that he was exhausted, too. It may have only been three days, but looking after a six-year-old, even one as mild-mannered as Tobio, was absolutely exhausting. 

“Is something amusing to you, Sawamura?” Suga teased, a lighthearted giggle accompanying his question.

“You should go back to sleep,” Daichi whispered, tucking a stray tuft of hair behind Suga’s ear, letting his thumb trace the gorgeous beauty mark accenting his left eye. His boyfriend hummed at the contact, seemingly relishing in the way Daichi’s heavy palm brushed across the apple of his cheek.

“‘M not sleepy,” he insisted, though the slur of his words betrayed him, immediately calling his bluff.

“What if I say _ I _ am?” Daichi inquired, making a move to pull Suga completely into the bulk of his chest. Like a missing puzzle piece, Suga slid into him, tucking his head perfectly beneath the square cut of Daichi’s jaw. He smelled so good, of soothing lavender and sweet vanilla. “Would you rest then?”

Rather than replying with a verbal response, Daichi felt Suga’s body unwind. His shoulders slackened, the curl of his hand loosened, even his already gentle breathing became more relaxed. Placing a gentle kiss to the crown of gray hair, Daichi let his eyes fall to a close, too. As one final act of shameless indulgence, the hand not tucked beneath his own pillow fell heavy on Suga’s hip. With trembling fingers, he brushed over the smooth skin present in the infinitesimal gap between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his shorts. 

Yes, falling in love with Suga was exactly like coming home after a very long, strenuous journey. With a final deep breath, his weary bones finally found refuge as he slipped into the warm and welcoming arms of sleep. 

\-------

Expecting the unexpected from his best friend was normal. In fact, it was completely safe to just simply assume that Kuroo would do whatever he wanted, when he wanted, not adhering to consequences, living life on the edge. While others might find it hazardous or worrisome, the people closest to him found it wildly endearing. 

Because of this key character trait, Daichi was totally unphased when Kuroo showed up at his doorstep the week before Thanksgiving, suitcase in one hand with a bottle of bourbon in the other, topped off with the world’s widest, most charming, shit-eating grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face.

“Knock, knock, Truffles!” He greeted once the steel door came open.

“Tetsu-- what,” Daichi sighed through a smile, arm propping him in the doorway of his front entrance, “are you doing here?”

“It’s my birthday in three days.”

Daichi was truly at a loss for words. 

“And we’ve never spent a birthday apart from each other in 23 years. Besides, this year is my dirty thirty, and I can’t not be with my best bro!”

_ Well, shit. _ That definitely pulled at his heartstrings. He took a step back into the entryway, motioning Kuroo to come inside. The mid-November air was extremely chilly and possessed quite the killer bite. Eagerly, Kuroo obliged, following behind his friend as he shut the heavy front door. He set his bourbon down by his bag before making quick work of untying his sneakers.

“So let me get this straight,” Daichi started as he made his way into the living room. “You flew halfway across the country, without telling me,  _ yet again _ , to celebrate your birthday?”

With his back turned, he didn’t expect Kuroo to come up behind him and wrap his long, slender arms around Daichi’s shoulders, pulling him into a warm embrace. There was something different about this hug, though. It wasn’t simply just a casual one made in greeting. They had known each other for too long.

Biting his tongue so as to not give yet another chastising word, Daichi turned around in his friend’s hug so they could face one other. Unexpectedly, Kuroo released a heavy sob, and almost immediately following, warm, wet tears could be felt on Daichi’s neck. Was Kuroo… crying? Why? What happened?

“Hey, hey,” the young dad soothed, immediately switching into his paternal mode. He held Kuroo closer, smoothing loving circles in the narrow expanse between the bedhead’s shoulder blades. “Tetsurou, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” 

Stiffly, and with a wet sob, Kuroo nodded his head. Since Daichi was unable to see his face because it was buried in the crook of his shoulder, the shorter brunette wasn’t sure if there was any truth to that gesture.

“Okay, it’s alright babe,” Daichi cooed, opting just to pull Kuroo into him even tighter, both thick, muscled arms enclosing around his best friend’s midsection. Just like he would when comforting his own son, Daichi naturally started to sway, all while offering the kindest sweet-nothings he could manage.

It was late, just after 9 p.m., and Daichi thanked the heavens above that Suga was upstairs and in the shower and that Tobio was fast asleep. Neither one needed to see Kuroo in this condition, especially the man’s nephew. Clearly, something pretty dreadful happened if it prompted Kuroo to fly out unannounced. 

It took several minutes for Kuroo’s sobs to gain control, returning him back to normal. When he untangled from Daichi’s comforting embrace, his golden eyes were swollen and his face was red.

“Tetsu,” Daichi stated lovingly, reaching up with both hands to wipe away lingering tears, “are you okay?”

Weakly, he croaked a half-hearted, “yeah.” His eyes slipped closed and he brought his hands up to curl around Daichi’s wrists, as though grounding himself.

“Is it about mom? Is mom alright?” 

“Our mom? Yes.” His mask cracked yet again when he uttered, “my mom, though? Big no.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Daichi cursed, the single expletive no louder than a hushed whisper. “Testu, come sit down.” 

He led his best friend the few paces it took to reach the sectional, letting Kuroo collapse into the cushions as he hid his face with his large hands, clearly ashamed of the unrestrained emotion present there.

At that moment, Suga emerged on the stairwell, dressed in his boyfriend’s too-large clothes, a towel draped over his neck. “Daichi, I think I used up the last of the hot water, I--” there was a gentle pause before the blonde surveyed the scene. They probably looked like a miserable pair, Kuroo doubled over, choking on sobs, and Daichi aimlessly rubbing his back. Not to mention the shock value of the unexpected house guest. “Why don’t I go make us some tea, hmm?”

‘ _ Thank you, _ ’ Daichi mouthed at his boyfriend, offering him a grateful smile. Suga could sure read a room with his unmatched intuition. Anyone else would have probably flocked over to the two men, eager to get to the bottom of whatever was happening. But not Suga. He trusted Daichi enough to handle this particular situation on his own while offering his own brand of support.

With a sympathetic nod, the nurse quietly padded through the living room and into the adjacent kitchen. The entirety of the living quarters was open concept, but it was still large enough that the two brothers could have a private few moments to themselves. Besides, Suga knew how to make just enough noise to make it obvious that he wasn’t intending to eavesdrop. 

Daichi lowered himself to the sofa, settling in beside his best friend. Using one toned arm, he wrapped it around Kuroo’s neck and used it to pull the taller man into his chest. Uncaring that he was getting a face full of raven-colored bedhead, he let Kuroo lay his head on his chest. His breathing became less erratic and more evenly paced the longer he stayed there, comfortably settling into his best friend’s warmth. After several long moments, Kuroo spoke.

“I went by to see her.” He sat up as he said those words, finally giving Daichi another solid glace at his face. Kuroo looked so damn tired, all the youthful liveliness that usually accompanied his features weren’t present. Wide, golden eyes were dulled, his tanned skin pallid, and his smile was non-existent. He hadn’t looked like this since Yui’s funeral and it made Daichi’s gut ache.

Instinctively taking his best friend’s hand, he asked, “what happened?” Anything having to do with Kuroo’s biological mother was bad news. 

Kuroo let out a humorless laugh. “Same shit. I told her I was coming by to cut ties for good and all she could do was ask me for money.”

Unable to contain his anger, Daichi muttered, “what a fucking bitch.” It was out of character for the young dad to call anyone such a harsh name, but truly, he couldn’t help it. Their entire lives, he had watched Ayako Kuroo neglect her only son, putting her own selfish wants and needs ahead of his. Over and over again, she chose her addiction and men over the only man that ever truly cared for her. It was sickening, and as a parent himself, he would never understand. His best friend was such a kind and wonderful soul. Any parent would be lucky to have him for a son. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo sighed weakly, using his free hand to wipe at his face. “I just thought if I told her I was done for good, she might have something new to say. Ya know?” A heart-wrenching chuckle left him, the sound of it like a vice grip on Daichi’s most vital organs. God, what a worthless woman she was. “I guess not. She was just as strung out as always, laid up there in a half dilapidated motel. She even had some fucking guy in there with her. Jesus Christ, Daichi, she looked like she weighed barely ninety fucking pounds.”

He took a heaving breath at that, and Daichi clutched his hand harder. “That’s not your fault, Tetsu. None of it is. How many times did you pay for her rehab? Hmm?” It made Daichi sick to think about the nearly 60k Kuroo had spent trying to make his mother well, something she clearly wasn’t interested in. He also signed leases for apartments, paid utility and phone bills, even offered up a down payment for a decent car that Ayako ended up lending to a ‘boyfriend’ who totaled it while driving drunk. Kuroo gave every single piece of himself in an attempt to win that woman’s love, and no matter what, it wasn’t enough. To top it off, never once did Kuroo receive so much as a ‘thank you’ from her. But still, he gave. 

“ _ God _ , I’m so fucking dumb,” he lamented, forcefully shaking his head as a self-deprecating smile found it’s way to his lips. “I gave her so many chances, I tried to help her, Dai. And what did that get me?” His throat sounded so parched as he coughed out, “fucking nothing. I’m so stupid.”

“Tetsu, stop that.” It came out a little more forceful than intended, but Daichi didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t watch his best friend pick himself apart, dismantle everything good about himself, every selfless deed he ever did, simply because the woman who brought him into the world was too selfish and high to appreciate him and the things he had done for her. “You’re not stupid, she is. I will never understand how such a wonderful, genuine human being is the offspring of someone like that.” 

His blood boiled at the thought of Ayako failing to show up to her son’s volleyball games, or his science fair presentations, or how she never bothered to give him a present on his birthday or Christmas, let alone the tiny sliver of attention he so desperately wanted from her. She was a pathetic excuse for a mother, and Daichi felt so grateful that his own mom filled such a role for them both. He loathed thinking of where either of them would be without Mama Sawamura’s unconditional love. 

“Sorry, Dai. I didn’t mean to go on a tangent,” Kuroo offered with a shaky breath. But before Daichi could admonish those remarks, his best friend was already pulling himself together as Suga entered the room, three hot mugs of tea balanced perfectly on a serving tray.

“Here, this is one is chamomile,” the nurse explained, holding out a gray ceramic mug to Kuroo. “I put a little honey in it. You must be tired after such a long flight.”

With the first genuine smile he had flashed all evening, the chemist let go of Daich’s hand to curl both of his around the mug. He looked immediately eased at the sensation, as if the warm temperature of the cup was somehow reassuring, grounding. “Where did you find this angel, huh?” he asked Daichi.

Relieved to see Kuroo joke, Daichi smiled, gladly taking the mug that Suga was offering him. “Well, truth be told, he’s actually the devil.”

To that, Suga balked, taking a seat in the opposite recliner. “How did you know?” he asked with a little wink. 

“Lucifer was once God’s most beautiful angel.”

With a tight lipped smirk, Suga replied, “Lucifer has nothing on me.” 

“Hear, hear!” Kuroo cheered, lifting his tea as though it were a pint of ale. So thankful to see his spirits rising once more, Daichi opted to move the conversation forward. They could talk more about Ayako later if Kuroo needed to. For right now, he just wanted to do anything to make his best friend feel better.

“So what brings you into town, Kuroo?” Suga asked over the rim of his own mug. “Daichi didn’t mention that you were visiting.”

Faking offense, Kuroo whipped his head around. “He didn’t? That rat bastard, I tell ya. Some friend!” 

Daichi elbowed him hard in the ribs, eliciting a slew of giggles. “Yet again, Kuroo thinks it’s totally okay to fly across the country unannoucned and just drop in for a visit.”

“Oh shit, was I interrupting something?” His amber eyes became comically wide. “Were y’all about to bang?”

The spit take Suga gave was surely one for the record books as unadulterated laughter wracked through his slender body. He held up a hand, unable to keep himself contained. 

Daichi was glad that Suga found it so humorous because his own face was the temperature of the sun, red and flustered. No, they actually weren’t about to have sex. Because despite that overly flirtatious Facetime call almost two weeks ago, Daichi couldn’t seem to get his shit together and actually make a move. Aside from the one or two nights a week Suga slept over and they cuddled and kissed each other breathlessly, nothing sexual in nature had occurred. As much as Daichi wanted to ‘make something happen’, each time, he chickened out. He had never given someone a blowjob, or even touched another dick that wasn’t his own. They were 29, for Christ’s sake. The last thing he wanted was for his performance to be shit. Suga deserved more than some high-school grade hand job. 

“No!” Daichi barked a little too loudly, only increasing the other two mens’ laughter. Kuroo’s face was beet red, and tears were stinging his eyes.  _ Ah, but those are good tears.  _ He would gladly take a joke at his own expense if it meant seeing his best friend and his lover smile. 

“Daichi can’t seal the deal, huh?” Kuroo teased, arching a dark eyebrow. “That’s a real shame there, Suga-chan. Maybe Daichi should have let me show him the ropes back in the day like I offered.” 

“Shut up, don’t give him gross ideas.” Daichi put a hand over his heart. “Koushi, I swear, Kuroo and I never messed around.” 

Suga, ever the good-natured soul, simply shrugged. “I made out with Tooru once.” 

Daichi’s eyebrows flew up his forehead and Kuroo sat up, as though electrocuted. “Asking for a friend, but do you perhaps have this incident on film?” Aggressively, Daichi shot another elbow into Kuroo’s ribs. 

“Oh god, no,” Suga laughed with a shake of his head. “We were just really drunk in college one time. Hajime saw it happen, but didn’t stop it because he and Tooru weren’t really  _ together  _ together at the time. And didn’t know what to do. Though to be fair, I think he was pretty shit-faced, too.”

“Hajime is a god amongst men.” 

“Tetsu, please stop.” Yes, it was good that Kuroo’s spirits were already back up, but did he seriously have to be so flirty? Okay, that was probably a dumb question. Kuroo’s whole existence was to flirt. And in Kuroo’s defense, Suga was quite the gorgeous target.

“Okay, so real talk.” Kuroo scooted closer to the edge of his seat, a smarmy smile plastered on his face. “If I threw a birthday party for myself, would you and Tooru attend and possibly, maybe, recreate that incident?” Daichi rolled his eyes and did his best to seem offended at the idea of Suga and Tooru making out.

“Well, while I would gladly attend a birthday party for you, Kuroo, I’m afraid this silver tongue only belongs in one man’s mouth now.” When Suga winked that time, Daichi felt his soul leave his body.

_ I am the luckiest man alive. _

“You know what, deal.” Kuroo turned to face Daichi. “Let’s throw me a Dirty Thirty.”

“Tetsu, your birthday is in literally three days.”

Suga piped up, excitement oozing from every inch of his being. “Then there is no time to waste, then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to bring y'all such a weird chapter. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the likes, comments, bookmarks!! You guys make writing this so much fun!! Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!!
> 
> If you want to check out more of my work (shameless self-promotion time), I posted that KageHina Royalty AU one-shot, and I also started a multi-chaptered BokuAka Sugar Daddy AU! Please go check them out if they sound like they will float your boat!! <3
> 
> Next time: Dirty Thirty, KuroKen, shots, and maybe I'll finally act on the reason why this is rated what it is *MAYBE* ;) 
> 
> I hope you all had a fabulous Christmas / holiday season and btw, Happy New Year's! See ya in 2021!!


	22. Dirty // Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is this 13 k long? I don't know, my dudes. I just don't. I've probably put around 25+ hours into work in this chapter, so please don't hate it. ;_;
> 
> There is one part that is 'Thirty' and one that is 'Dirty'. if the dirty part doesn't float your boat, no hard feelings, but be sure to read the last few paragraphs before you jump ship!!
> 
> Love to following people:  
> MadamPresident2032, AKA Mrs. Kelce, the platonic Akaashi to my emo Bokuto mode: You are a Queen and I don't deserve you. Thank you for your incredible beta skills and unending friendship.  
> Bbyblake - you are a saint. Thanks for putting up with my shenanigans.  
> UmiCrunch - my pic spam queen, bless you!! Seriously.  
> adka2333 - thank you for being a wonderful cheerleader and hype person!! 
> 
> Collectively, y'all are a treasure trove of incredible humans. THANK YOU!!
> 
> Okay, now enjoy (I hope)
> 
> PS - Happy belated birthdays to Dai-chan and Asahi and Kiyoko! And happy new year!!

**[Thirty.]**

“Now are you absolutely positive that you’re going to be alright?” Daichi asked his son as he kneeled in the foyer of the Hinata home, holding the little boy’s tiny hands in his own. Kuroo stood at Daichi’s side, one hand placed on Tobio’s slender shoulder. “It’s okay to call us if you want to come home. It doesn’t matter how late it is.”

They had gone over this at the house before they left and then once more in the car on their way over. Tobio wanted to stay the night at Shoyou’s, stating that it didn’t feel scary this time and that he really liked Mrs. Hinata and Natsu, too. He assured his dad and uncle that he felt a lot more comfortable now and that he really wanted to spend time with his friend rather than having a babysitter, as much as he liked Mr. Asahi and Mr. Noya. 

Kuroo nodded his bedhead in a gesture of solidarity, agreeing with his best friend. “Your dad is right, little man. If you get worried or scared, we’ll come back right away. Doesn’t matter how late it is.”

In an effort to emphasize how serious was, Tobio squeezed his dad’s hands back, a small smile pulling at his face. “Daddy, Uncle Roo,” he addressed them individually, cobalt gaze latching their attention. “I will call you if I need to, but I promise I won’t get scared.” 

Just off to the corner of Daichi’s eye, he could spot a shock of wild red hair and the excited staring of one wide, amber iris as Shoyou peered around the corner of the wall, likely watching intently to make sure that his best friend was indeed staying. They had been there almost half an hour as Sakura Hinata had offered them both a cup of tea, eager to meet the infamous ‘favorite uncle’, to which Kuroo had joked, ‘it’s not like he has many to choose from’. Both men raised by Mama Sawamura refused to acknowledge the existence of one Sato Michimiya and for good reason.

“Alright,” Daichi conceded finally, holding out his arms for a hug. Tobio crashed into his chest, snuggling his face into his dad’s neck. “So long as you’re sure,” he whispered, relishing in the moment.

“I’m super sure, daddy. I have everything I need.” To drive that point home, he patted at the Paw Patrol duffel beside him. Packed inside that bag was of course all of the basic essentials one might need to stay over somewhere: pajamas, a change of clothes for the next day, toothbrush, etc. But the true necessities included his stuffed fish as well as his moon and stars night light. Shouyou, the blessed little creature he was, never once poked fun at his friend. Instead, he admired the wall plug-in when Tobio described it to him, stating that it sounded awesome and that he wanted one, too. Daichi squared that information away for the upcoming Christmas holiday.

“Alright, let us say goodbye to Mrs. Hinata, then.” As Daichi rose to his feet, their little spy rounded the corner in a furious sprint before latching onto Tobio’s hand.

“C’mon, Tobes! Let’s put your bag in my room then we’ll play Mario Kart! Or we can build that new Star Wars Lego ship my auntie mailed me! Or--” his voice trailed off as the boys disappeared farther into the house, an interconnected blur of six-year-old excitement.

“I will keep you updated tonight, Daichi,” the young red-headed mother explained as she walked into the foyer, clearly having observed her son whiz past with a new addition in tow. “I will make sure to reiterate to Tobio that it’s okay to call, no matter how late.”

Relief lightened the feeling in Daichi’s chest. “Thank you so much, it really means a lot.”

“Of course! Now you said it’s this handsome devil’s birthday, right?” she shot a coy wink at Kuroo with that comment, making the dark-haired man uncharacteristically flush. 

“It’s my Dirty Thirty,” he admitted a bit sheepishly, pawing at the back of his slender neck. The past few days, Kuroo had been amped up about it, but now that the actual event was approaching, he was losing his nerve. Daichi suspected that a certain IHOP waiter had something to do with it.

“Well, then have fun! And you’re not to show up at this house to pick Tobio up before noon tomorrow. I will feed him lunch, just text me when you wake up.” She gave a huge grin at that, amber eyes twinkling. “Drink one for me!”

Kuroo gave a smirk and clapped Daichi on the shoulder. “Yes, ma’am!”

\---------

“Damn, the Chiefs might get a second Super Bowl win this year,” Hajime commented, tipping his half-empty pint of beer toward the TV. “That would be a hell of a deal.”

“That Travis Kelce is a hell of a tight end,” Daichi added as he chewed on a tortilla chip, having ordered nachos to go with his beverage. 

“He has a hell of a tight end, too,” Kuroo murmured into his rum and Coke.

Hajime nodded in agreement. “God, we’re all so fucking gay.” 

“Speaking of,” Kuroo looked around the sports bar where they were sitting, “when do your better halves get here?” Daichi, Hajime, and Kuroo had all agreed to meet up and have a few beers and wings while Suga and Tooru got ready. The dynamic duo would Uber over together to the bar once they were finished. Daichi didn’t mind, though. He actually preferred the quiet and laid back setting they were experiencing currently: food, Michelob Ultra, football highlights on flat screens. All he was missing was Suga under his arm and the syrupy sweet kisses that tasted of the blonde’s favorite mango wine.

However, based on the rundown Hajime had given him at work that afternoon, odds were low that things were staying lowkey. Apparently, the sports restaurant they were sitting at was part of a large nightlife spot famous to Kansas City. It was known as the ‘Power and Light District’, or, ‘P&L’ for short. It was basically an outdoor mall, but for bars and clubs. Each bar had a different theme or vibe, and patrons could meander between them. It was going to be an experience, that much Daichi was certain of. 

Hajime flipped over his phone as he took another sip of his own beer, an amber lager. “Tooru just texted and said they got in the Uber about 15 minutes ago. So I imagine they’ll be here around 9:30.”

“This is already way past my bedtime,” Daichi commented under his breath as he pressed his face into his palms. Yes, he was very excited to get out of the house and have adult time, but that didn’t mean he could still drink like he once did.

“Bro, you’re twenty fucking nine. _I’m_ the old man turning thirty tonight!” Kuroo exclaimed, poking himself in the chest.

“Hey,” Hajime griped, “some of us are already thirty.”

“When’s your birthday?” Daichi asked. 

“June 10th. Yours?”

“New year’s eve. Not quite a New Years’ baby.” The young dad smiled over his beer at the memory of his mother recounting his birth and the way his dad drove her to the hospital on a particularly drizzly December 31st morning. Born just shy of midnight, Daichi barely missed the cut. 

“My baby brother,” the lanky brunette sobbed playfully, throwing a long arm around Daichi’s broad shoulders. “So young, still so full of life.”

“I am literally a dad,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t call me a baby.”

“Oh-oh, sensitive!” Kuroo admonished with a wink. Daichi groaned- the teasing would never end.

Daichi could only roll his eyes at that comment. “Hey, by the way, what did you do at home while I was at work?” the stout brunette inquired of his best friend. “Did you go and see Kenma?”

It was subtle, but Daichi prided himself on being rather receptive. He had known his best friend long enough to realize when he was being evasive. There were small tells, such as the upward twitch of his upper lip, even though the chronic bedhead tried to disguise it with a sip of his beverage. “Not much, ya know? I took a nap and caught some more sleep after we all had breakfast and you guys left, no biggie. Woke up, watched TV for a little bit, used my rental car to go to the mall to find something to wear for tonight.” He shrugged, acting nonchalant, but this performance wasn’t going to win the man an Oscar. “Kenma was getting ready for work and I knew we’d see each other here tonight, so I didn’t want to be clingy and go by the restaurant and bother him.”

“How are things going with him?” Hajime added, leaning over to make eye contact with their resident birthday boy. “Have you guys been hitting it off?”

To that, Kuroo seemingly lit up, as if over the moon to discuss his new beau. “Yeah, it’s been really good. We have been texting and playing video games together all the time since I got back to San Fran. He’s really chill.” The Californian thumbed at the handle of his beer stein. “He’s not really a ‘bar guy’, but he’s still coming out. So that means a lot.”

“Glad to hear it,” Daichi said, meaning every word as he clapped his oldest friend on the shoulder. Kuroo’s entrance the other day had been laced with heavy emotion, but over the course of his visit, he made a full 180. Spending time with Tobio helped, of course. That kid could cheer up his Uncle Roo on even the gloomiest of days.

“By the way, I know since we all went to that rooftop bar over Labor Day weekend that you guys probably think that you know what you’re getting into tonight,” Hajime started, paying the two gentlemen to his right a warning side-eye, “but you haven’t the faintest fucking clue.”

Kuroo fired off the first question. “Is Suga a party animal?”

“With Tooru? Abso-fucking-lutely. I have seen those two put away more tequila shots than Jose Cuervo himself.” At that image, Daichi shuddered and he felt his stomach curl over. _Not tequila_ . “They’re a force to be reckoned with and they do _not_ fuck around. Two years ago, I tried to get Suga to drink water by swapping his cup out with a water glass and he literally took a sip and spit it back in my face telling me that ‘water is for fish’. And that man is god damn medical professional.” As he recalled the tale, his green eyes hazed over a little bit, as though traumatized. “If you think you know shenanigans, you know nothing.”

“Jon Snow,” Kuroo added unhelpfully. 

“Jesus,” the brunette in the middle let out a low whistle. Were things really going to get that crazy tonight?

“Ope, they’re out front,” Hajime reported as his phone vibrated to life. But before Daichi could grab his own wallet, his boss already had his on the counter, handing over a gold Visa to the bartender. 

“You don’t have to get mine.”

“Or mine,” Kuroo stated, leaning around Daichi.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hajime said with a wave of his hand right as a receipt and pen were placed in front of him. “Just help me keep tabs on those two.”

“Of course.” Even if he hadn’t promised Hajime he would, Daichi already had every intention of taking care of his boyfriend. It was their first time going out like this, after all, and he wanted to make the most of it, despite feeling like the ‘old man’ of the group based on his status as a father. He planned to be the perfect gentleman: hold open every nightclub door, get every cover charge, buy every single one of Suga’s drinks, watch said beverages while he went to the restroom, dance with him whenever he wanted - the works.

Yeah, it was going to be a good night. Daichi could feel it in his bones.

As they made their way to the front entrance of the restaurant, a nervous flutter settled in Daichi’s chest. Simultaneously, a stirring took place low in his groin. Was he seriously getting weird thoughts about Suga already, without even seeing the man yet today? The plan was for Daichi to go to Suga’s apartment after the bar, since it was a much shorter trip via rideshare, lest Sakura called about Tobio. Other than that first night, Daichi hadn’t stayed over at Suga’s - it was always Daichi’s because of his son’s routine. But tonight, Tobio was with Sho and --

His spiraling thoughts came to a screeching halt as he stepped out on the sidewalk. At that moment, he was thankful for the cold November wind on his face, as it was likely the only thing keeping him from completely overheating. It was no mystery that Suga looked absolutely breathtaking in everything he wore, whether it was his scrubs for school or his angel costume for Halloween or Daichi’s favorite football shirt while wrapped in a familiar gray duvet. But this, this was something else entirely.

Like a walking, living, breathing wet dream, Suga wore high-waisted light-washed jeans, the brass button fly catching the flashing neon lights. They fit him like a second skin, as though painted on by God himself, as if the blonde needed any more help flaunting that gorgeous backside and dangerously svelte legs. From the factory frayed holes in the knees, Daichi was graced with flashes of porcelain kneecaps, the threadbare fabric stretched thin. For his top, he wore a loose, black, cable-knit sweater that fell teasingly off of one shoulder, showing off the field of beauty marks and tiny freckles that trailed from his clavicle to his neck and down, until they disappeared under the soft fabric. 

And finally, Daichi praised every deity that was ever recorded in human history (as well as one Tooru Iwaizumi) for the artwork that was done to Suga’s face. The man didn’t need makeup, not an ounce, at least in Daichi’s opinion. He was already so perfect, so flawless, so gorgeous. But the pit in his stomach only intensified as Koushi looked his way, long, pewter lashes fluttering, honey eyes framed in thick, dark liner. The light pink eyeshadow, almost a nude color, which was carefully blended on his eyelids, only further brought out the stunning tawny irises, highlighting every fleck of copper and mocha. Suga was so perfect, and Daichi felt unworthy to stand in his presence, let alone receive the kiss that was planted on his unsuspecting mouth.

“How do I look?” Suga purred right in his ear, the question tickling the sensitive shell, forcing a shiver down his spine. His breath was so hot, his body so warm where their midsections met in their embrace, all that body heat working wonders to counter the cold. Before Daichi could formulate an intelligible answer, Suga wrapped a graceful hand around the back of the brunette’s neck, his nails ghosting over the fine, black hairs of his nape. “Good enough to eat?” 

The hands that had found their way to Suga’s hips tightened their hold, the weight keeping Daichi from floating away, drifting into the night sky. God, what a fucking absolutely gorgeous and provocative question to ask, the sultry spill of his boyfriend’s pink lips sending Daichi’s head only reeling further. If given a spoon, the brunette would eat Suga right here, right now, on this sidewalk for all to see.

However, instead of that witty response, Daichi could only choke out a stuttered, “of course”, earning him a mild chuckle and an affectionate swipe of Suga’s thumb over his rapidly reddening cheek. 

“Do you wanna come buy me a drink?” the blonde inquired, pulling away ever so slightly so they could meet each other’s gaze. Housed in Suga’s expression was such pure longing, though lined with something innocent, wholesome. The alcohol in his bloodstream convinced him it might be something like love, but he couldn’t be certain, not with the heavy haze of lust clouding the front of his brain.

“Good god, are you guys gonna fuck, or are you gonna come drink?” Kuroo barked from his spot just a few feet away, the cat-like man paying his best friend a scrutinizing, yet somehow proud, stare. 

Swallowing thickly, Daichi shook his head in an attempt to clear it before capturing one of Suga’s hands in his. “Shall we?” he asked sweetly, gesturing to where Tooru and Hajime were standing, their own hands intertwined.

“We shall.”

///

“So, when does your boo show up?” Suga asked Kuroo as they stood in line for the first bar of the night. His big, beefcake of a boyfriend was at his side, arm thrown casually around his shoulder, fingers tracing mindless circles in the exposed flesh where his sweater hung off at one side.

“He’ll be here once he finishes his shift and runs home to change. He said he didn’t want to smell like pancakes,” Kuroo explained, shuffling closer in the line as the bouncer checked IDs.

“Damn, I love pancakes!” Tooru whined from just behind them. The night was a little chilly, and Hajime was holding him close. Just like Suga, his best friend had not dressed appropriately for the temperature outside. A silver sequined top was tucked into high rise black jeans, the thin white fishnet overlay he wore to complete the ensemble did little to weed out the cold. At least his boots were closed-toe. Suga surmised that Hajime was relieved that said boots weren’t high-heeled - the businessman husband was still a bit self-conscious of his height even after all these years. 

“Yeah, is it weird I want him to smell like syrup all the time?” The bedhead arched an eyebrow as he took out his wallet to fetch his driver’s license.

“No, you’re a fucking bottomless pit,” Daichi chuckled. He removed his arm from around Suga just so he could fish out his phone, though he was trying to be discreet about it. At a quick glance, the blonde could see that a picture message of some kind had just come through.

“What’s that?” he asked boldly, gesturing at the screen.

“Oh, uh,” Daichi stammered in surprise. “It's just a text from Sho's mom.”

Icy dread shot through his bloodstream then. “Is everything alright?” he asked, very concerned. It was not lost on him that tonight was a big night for Tobio, and apart from his own selfish reasons, he wanted Tobio to actually have a good time and experience a real, honest-to-goodness sleepover. It was one of the best things about childhood, after all. 

“Yeah, it is.” There was a tenderness in that reply as a gentle smile touched the brunette’s lips. “It’s just a photo of the boys. They baked a cake. Do you want to see it?”

“Of course!” Suga nodded happily, equal parts relieved that all was well with his favorite six-year-old, while also excited that Daichi wouldn’t have to leave, at least not yet. All was well for now.

The young dad tilted his phone up, showing off the display. Right there front and center were the two widest grins that Suga had ever seen, especially from Tobio. He was smiling so big that his eyes were closed, the skin pinched tight in the corners. The Sawamura son had a baking spatula in his hand, the utensil covered in pink frosting. Next to him stood a proud-looking Shouyou, an apron tied around his waist, the little boy perched on a step stool. He had flour in his hair and both short arms were clasped around his best friend’s shoulders, holding him a side hug. They looked too sweet next to each other, the perfect little pair.

“Tobes looks super happy,” Kuroo observed, resting his pointed chin on Suga’s head to steal a glimpse at the phone.

“He does,” Daichi replied almost wistfully. “Sakura said the boys baked the cake and are now watching _Ratatouille_ before bed. And that Tobio is doing really well.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see just how proud that made the father in their midst.

“Ah, so sweet, Dai-chan!” Tooru added, also taking his turn to look at the picture. “They are the cutest boys, aren’t the Hajime?”

To Suga’s surprise, Hajime nodded. “That they are.”

“Oh, we’re up next!” the nurse pointed out - finally, they had reached the front of the line. Daichi swapped his phone for his wallet and handed over enough money to pay for everyone in their party. Hajime tried to counter, but Daichi waved it off, saying that it was nothing and not to worry about it. Suga had known his other best friend too long, however, and the stoic CFO would probably try to pay for drinks. It was amusing to watch two such generous men not necessarily compete, because that wasn’t the case, truly. Rather, they were both just too kind and took good care of everyone around them.

“What do you want, babe?” Daichi asked in his ear, the already loud music nearly unbearable even at the front entrance. Back at the house, while doing their makeup, Suga and Tooru had partaken in a few shots to help soothe the nurse’s nerves. If something was going to happen physically between him and Daichi tonight, he needed to get out of his head and stop overthinking.

“Will you see if they will make me a strawberry margarita?” he asked as they stepped further inside. The beat was vibrating the concrete floor, the room a cacophony of flashing lights and pulsing bass. It was still pretty early, at least for the club scene, but things were already hopping. The crowd would only get thicker as the night progressed. “Tooru and I will go find a table!” 

Daichi nodded as Hajime and Kuroo joined him in walking in the direction of the bar, passing dancing bar-goers in the process. Tooru weaseled up next to his ashen-haired friend, taking his hand. It was a poor substitute for Daichi’s, but it would do for now. 

“Suga-chan,” started the pretty brunette as they made their way to an open table, “you are getting laid tonight _for sure_.”

“What?!” Suga balked, sliding into a leather booth. The horseshoe-shaped table gave them a great view of the dancefloor as well as ample space for their group. “What makes you say that?”

Ever the flirt, Tooru leaned into his friend, brushing the bangs from his eyes. “Oh, darling. Did you miss the way he looked at you when he first saw you out front of that sports bar? I’m pretty sure he popped a boner in those ridiculously sexy American Eagle jeans.” 

This vulgar statement forced Suga to laugh as well as blush, though he hoped the latter action was lost in the dim lighting. “Shut up!” he scolded playfully, pushing on the brunette’s shoulder. “He did not.” It was a weak argument because Suga didn’t actually believe it. Actually, he had seen the absolutely wrecked expression the brunette had worn on his face. And everything about it screamed, ‘ _I want to fuck this man.’_ There was no denying that Suga found it wildly flattering. However, he was doing his best not to get his hopes up or create expectations. If Daichi needed more time, then well, Suga had all the time in the world.

///

“Are you going home with Suga after this?” Hajime asked as he waited patiently for his beer as well as his husband’s Sex on the Beach. He leaned against the wooden bar, thick arms folded over his chest. He was dressed down considerably when compared to his flashy spouse, but the look still suited the dark brunette. He was in black jeans and a gray hoodie, denim jacket left unbuttoned. 

“Fuck yeah he is!” Kuroo interjected. Having been served first, he was thirstily sipping on his rum and Coke. “We had a chat before we left and I reminded him of the baser functions of male anatomy.” 

_Fuck_ that had been an embarrassing conversation and now that Tetsu was trying to rehash it, it made everything ten times worse. He groaned though the sound was likely lost to the pounding music. For whatever reason, his best friend felt the need to review the ends and outs of gay, penetrative sex, down to the last gritty detail. 

_“You know, Suga gives me power bottom energy, but he very well could like to top,” Kuroo explained while watching Daichi nervously scour through his closet in search of a decent shirt. “Anyway, you know how they say location, location, location in real estate?” An annoyed hum left Daichi’s throat, not bothering to actually look over his shoulder and acknowledge his friend and his ramblings. “Okay, well the same thing applies but when you’re three fingers deep in an asshole instead.”_

_“Jesus, Tetsu! What the fuck?!”_

_“Curl. Them.” To add insult to injury, he literally held up three of his long digits, repeatedly bending them in a slow, rolling motion. The man was actually giving him a fucking demonstration._

By the time Kuroo was done retelling the events of just a few hours prior, all three men had their beverages in tow and were approaching the booth. Tetsu was cackling like a damn hyena at his own shenanigans, the sheer ridiculousness of it even causing Hajime to crack a smile. 

Though to be fair, Daichi didn’t even really watch porn. The moment the actors started moaning, he would get nervous and shut his laptop. But that didn’t mean the mechanics of it all were lost on him. He had done extensive research on the topic, especially since he and Suga had started dating. He knew how it all worked, just not from practical application.

“Keep laughing, chuckles,” Daichi chided as he joined Tooru and Suga in the booth, sliding in next to his boyfriend. 

“What are we laughing about, Hot Dad-chan?” Tooru inquired as he accepted the beverage from his spouse. 

“Shittykawa! Don’t call him that!” 

“Ohh, jealous are we, Iwa-chan?” The thick flutter of his lashes should have been illegal. Even if Daichi’s attention belonged solely to Suga, there was no denying his son’s principal’s beauty. 

“Don’t flirt with other guys,” Hajime instructed, pinching his husband’s nose between two of his knuckles. 

“It’s not flirting!” Tooru whined through his cinched nose. “I was just teasing.”

“Then stop teasing and drink your froo-froo alcohol.” He was chastising but his voice lacked all heat.

“Well if you must know, I was the one laughing,” Kuroo piped up, once again unhelpfully. “You see, while Daichi was picking out which one of his horrible dad shirts to wear, I was giving him a much-needed lesson on--”

The elbow that was thrown into Kuroo’s rib cage was probably packed with a little too much force, but Daichi would easily throw it again if it meant shutting him up. There was no way, under any circumstance, Suga could find out about the conversation that had occurred regarding the birds and the bees.

“God damn!” Kuroo huffed as he doubled over from the pain, practically laying his face on the table. “Truffles, it’s my birthday, you can’t assault me!”

“Then stop spouting stupid shit,” Daichi retorted, bringing his beer to his lips. Beside him, Suga curled in closer, flirtatiously wrapping their ankles together under the table.

“Fine! Just don’t throw any more elbows, fuck!”

“Oh, I know!” Tooru piped up. “I think we should play ‘Never Have I Ever’ again!” He was practically yelling over the music, the pounding pop somehow growing louder. More and more patrons were pouring in, and the venue was getting considerably crowded.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Hajime growled, clearly not happy with that suggestion. “We came to a club to dance, so we’re not gonna sit around and play your stupid ass game.”

“Oh?” Tooru arched a manicured eyebrow, propping his pointed chin on his open palm. “Is that your way of asking me to dance?”

“Finish your drink and maybe,” the husband retorted with a quick scoff. 

“Will you dance with me, Dai?” Suga asked, cheekily leaning into his boyfriend’s side, breath warm and already tinged with the sharp scent of tequila. 

“Of course.” He placed a quick kiss on the tip of Suga’s nose, prompting the blonde to smile through a long sip of his margarita.

“After this drink?” 

“Sure, whenever you want.”

Content with that answer, he sipped on his margarita. “How is Tobio doing? Any more updates?”

The fact that Suga cared so much warmed him in a way that was hard to describe. As if he needed another reason to fall in love with this wonderful human. At first, he had tried to hide that he was texting Sakura, too afraid that he was raining on the parade and ruining the fun with his obligatory dad duties. But Suga never once treated him like that, like his responsibilities as a father was daunting or annoying. The ash-blonde took everything in stride, and for that, Daichi was eternally grateful. _I should keep him._

“They fell asleep during the movie,” he informed Suga.

“Did his nightlight get plugged in? I know he can’t sleep without it.”

“Yeah, it’s going in Sho’s room.”

A pleased smile split his soft expression. “I am glad to hear that.”

Taking his boyfriend’s hand and placing a kiss on his cheek, Daichi thanked the man. “I appreciate you checking.”

To that, Suga only replied, “of course.”

///

The second bar proved to be absolutely packed, so filled with sweltering bodies that it was almost difficult to breathe. At one point in his college years, Kuroo could have hung with the best of them, taking shot after shot, throwing them back as if they were water. Even up until last year, he would be in the middle of the crowd, prowling, looking for someone to take home, to make him feel whole and loved, even if just for a night. 

But blessedly, those days were long behind him. Instead of being in the mix of bodies, he was leaning by the front door, enjoying the fresh, crisp air. It never really got this cold in San Francisco, and the winter wind was sobering. It was exactly what he needed as he waited on his date.

“Hey, are you here alone?” inquired a passing woman, blonde hair curled and falling down the middle of her back. She was dressed in a skin-tight black dress, the slit in the thigh cutting toward her hip. There was no denying that she was absolutely gorgeous, with sinful curves and alluring eyes. 

But she wasn’t what Kuroo was after.

“Sorry,” he said politely, “I’m waiting on my date.”

Much to his relief, the gal just smiled and caught up to her girlfriends, not another word shared between them. Sighing deeply, he leaned up against the bricks.

“Hey.”

The familiar voice caused Kuroo’s head to snap forward. Even with the passing groups of his people, his large, golden eyes knew exactly where to fall. They hadn’t seen each other in two months, having only met that one time at IHOP, the serendipitous encounter feeling more like a lifetime ago. But still, the bleach-blonde looked exactly the same, if not better than he remembered.

“Hey, Kitten,” Kuroo called, holding out his arm in a greeting, inviting his date in for a hug. Much to his pleasure, Kenma accepted the embrace, wrapping his short arms around the taller man’s trim waist. “How was work?”

To that question, Kenma shrugged his shoulders, burying his face in Kuroo’s chest. The California native chuckled, carefully placing a small kiss on the dark roots of his date’s hair. It was pulled back into a bun like before, but stray strands were falling out around his face. It was incredibly adorable. “Fine,” he answered finally, voice muffled still in Kuroo’s shirt.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Is it okay if it’s just a soda?”

The bedhead nodded. “Of course, Kitten. Whatever you want.”

Kenma pulled away then, looking up at his date through a fan of black lashes, golden eyes sparkling beneath the neon. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, tucking a blonde strand behind Kenma’s ear. “It’s good to see you, too.” Surely, he was a sight for sore eyes. The shorter man was dressed in skinny jeans and a simple red sweater, the top cropped, giving a hint of his pale naval. The too-long sleeves hung past his knuckles so only the very tips of his fingers were visible.

“Is it okay if we don’t go inside right away?” There was a very shy quality to his voice, as though he were ashamed to ask.

“We can stay out here as long as you like,” Kuroo assured him, hugging the small body closer to his, soaking up every degree of shared body heat. “I’m in no rush.”

And truly, he wasn’t. Right here was exactly where he wanted to be.

///

“I don’t think I can do another shot!” Suga conceded, throwing in the hypothetical towel. Numerous empty shot glasses existed between them, the little containers taking up too much of the table. From beside them, the birthday boy sat with a very cute waiter in his lap, eyeing the ordeal with a humorous expression.

“Say you’ve been bested by me, then!” Oikawa challenged, a competitive spirit brewing behind his glassy hazel eyes.

“Fine!” the ash-blonde threw up his hands. “You’ve bested me! Are you happy?”

“That’s his secret,” Hajime cut into the conversation from his place at his husband’s side, the plastic cup of beer in his fist nearly drained. “He’s never happy.”

“ _Rude,_ Iwa-chan!” The offended cry was a trademark to the principal at this point. “You have no idea how happy I am!” He stuck his nose in the air in a gesture of defiance.

“Yeah?” Hajime teased, tightening the already iron-clad grip he had around his spouse’s waist. “Do I make you happy?”

Clearly quite flustered, Tooru sputtered. The alcohol had turned his face a little splotchy, not that Suga would ever point that out. If he did, it would truly cause a colossal meltdown. “Soooooo stinking happy.” Tooru purred, nuzzling against his longtime lover’s chin. 

“Get a room!” Suga howled, causing Daichi to laugh. God, he wished he could bottle that baritone chuckle. 

“ _You_ get a room!” his best friend sneered, his insults and comeback becoming increasingly less witty as his blood-alcohol levels rose. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” No really, that sounded like the best time ever.

“Are they always like this?” he heard the shy Kenma ask Kuroo. He couldn’t hear the bedhead’s exact response, but whatever it was, it pulled another earnest laugh from Daichi. 

“Iwa-chan, take me to dance!” 

Despite the dim lighting, Hajime’s emerald eyes shined. “Yeah, okay, let's go and sweat out the booze.

“You wanna go, too?” Suga turned and asked his boyfriend.

“For sure.” The brunette turned to the other pair in their mix. “Are you two going to dance?”

Kuroo spied the little minx on his lap before shaking his head. “Nah, we’re gonna hang here and talk. You kids have fun.” He winked at Daichi and the latter smiled. Suga grabbed his sleeve and pulled him out of the booth.

///

The gorgeous rolls of his hips were intoxicating from where they stood beneath the strobing club lights, the hypnotic patterns of blues and reds and yellows casting their own individual hues over Suga’s gray hair. One long, slender hand curled around a bar cup, squeezing so tight that the plastic bowed, its contents nearly empty. The other hand was fixed to Daichi’s bulky bicep, anchoring them to the salacious dance floor. 

All around them, music buzzed, a hypnotic mix of rap and Latin music. The rhythmic beat seemed to entrance the nurse, his eyes closed, sweat pouring down his beautiful face, sticking to his pale skin, pooling in the canyons of his sharply cut collarbone. His full lips mouthed the words of the song, though if he were actually singing them instead, Daichi couldn’t hear it, not over the roar coming from the speaker towers. 

His own hands were glued to his boyfriend’s hips, one placed over the sweater, the other placed under, getting a feel of damp, heated skin. Suga turned his head left, then right, all while doing that dangerously unholy move of his groin, pushing his pelvis against Daichi’s. While the brunette hadn’t had much to drink apart from a few beers, he felt drunker than he ever had before, bewitched wholly by Suga’s dancing.

It was then that Suga curled a finger at his boyfriend, motioning him to come closer, a wild look in his kaleidoscope eyes. Daichi obliged and was met with a tequila tongue licking at the edge of his mouth, a domineering hand dragging him down, begging to deepen the kiss. The only thing he could do was oblige, his many desires polluting his thought process. Here, there was only Koushi and the delicious flashes of skin and light, touches of hunger and yearning. 

Yeah, this man was going to be the absolute death of him.

///

“ _Iwa-chan!_ ” Tooru gasped in his husband’s ear, breathless, choking on a pleasured sob. “Ah, _fuck_!”

“Hold still, Trashykawa, or I’ll stop.”

“No!” the tall brunette begged, pinching his eyes shut. “I’ll bear it, please.”

“I don’t know how you managed this, but I don’t think it’s swollen,” Hajime commented, hands wrapped around Tooru’s right knee. It certainly felt swollen, but then again, it always did. That damned ACL, what a curse it was. First, it ruined his cheerleading career and now it was spoiling a night out with his husband and their friends. He must have slipped a little while they were dancing, twisting his leg in the big crowd.

“It feels good,” Tooru explained as Hajime’s capable fingers massaged and comforted the sore tendon. He always knew exactly how to use those thick digits, whether it be on his injured knee or elsewhere. “It also just kinda hurts.”

“I know, I know,” the darker brunette gruffed. They were sitting on the benches outside of the club, Tooru wrapped in a thick denim jacket that definitely wasn’t his, a long leg spread across Hajime’s lap. “Take some meds when we get home, but you have to stop drinking now.”

“Don’t wanna,” he pouted, puffing out his lips in rebellion.

“Don’t care, you won’t be able to walk on this tomorrow let alone go for a run next week. So just listen to me, okay?”

Unwilling to argue further, Tooru caved. “Okay,” he said finally, earning him a sentimental forehead kiss.

“I love you, Tooru.” 

That was just what he needed to hear to lift his spirits. “I love you too, Hajime. Carry me home?”

“How about to the cab?” he countered, a flirty smirk pinning his mouth in one corner.

“Deal.”

“I’ll go back in and tell Suga and Daichi.”

From where Tooru was seated and from what he could see, that wouldn’t be necessary. “I think we can just go ahead and text them.”

“Are you sure?”

Wordlessly, he took one long index finger and pointed several yards away, gesturing to where Daichi’s back was pressed against a wall, a bruising kiss from Suga holding him in place. Hajime nodded in understanding. “Alright, a text then,” he agreed.

Tooru held his arms out. “Bridal style or nothing at all.”

“Sure,” the shorter husband agreed, bending down to comply with the request in a rare show of shameless public affection. “Whatever you want, Crappykawa.” 

“Call me Mr. Iwaizumi.”

“Ugh, don’t push it.”

“Iwa-chan, but my leg hurts!”

“Fine, _Mr. Iawaizumi,_ but if you wiggle around I swear to god I’ll drop you.”

///

“Are you sure you’re not gonna head back to the house?”

His best friend shook his head. “Nah, I’m gonna go meet Kenma’s cats. You kids have fun.” A large hand patted the side of Daichi’s face playfully. “Wear a condom, Truffles.”

Daichi swatted the hand away. “Don’t be weird.” The pair was standing out in the plaza waiting for their respective dates to come out of the restroom. 

“I’m fucking weird, deal with it.” Kuroo clicked his tongue, taking in a deep breath of the frigid air. A beat of silence rested between them, both men feeling a little tired and worn out from their night. 

“Happy birthday, babe,” Daichi said finally, staring up into the night sky. It was hard to see the stars because of the thick lights of the city, but the inky darkness was something to marvel at regardless, like a blank canvas of black, waiting to be dotted with celestial bodies. 

“Thanks, Truffles.”

“I’m proud of you.” He should say it more often, he knew that. It was something that Kuroo needed to hear as often as possible. His brother was truly an incredible friend, a wonderful uncle, a great son. Daichi was lucky to have him in his life.

“I’m proud of you, too.”

“Yeah?”

Kuroo smiled. “Yeah.”

“Daichi!” he heard his name called so sweetly as his boyfriend practically skipped up the sidewalk. “Are you ready to go?”

“I sure am.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to waiting lips. “Our Uber is on its way.”

“Happy birthday, Testu!” the nurse wished his boyfriend’s brother. “Thank you for letting us throw a party for you. Sorry that it’s barely past midnight.”

Kenma had joined him under his arm, face tucked into the fabric of his jacket. “No worries, I had the best time. Thanks for throwing one for me.”

“Our pleasure! And it was good to see you again, Kenma. I’ll text you that banana bread recipe tomorrow, I promise!”

“Sure, Koushi. I’ll be sure to add you on Snapchat so I can send you pictures of Zelda and Link.”

Daichi glanced between the two petite men. Clearly, some sort of life-changing bonding had occurred between them during their trip to the restroom and he was in no way upset about it. What if his boyfriend and his best friend’s boyfriend became BFFs? Would that be the worst thing in the world? He watched as the duo got into an Uber of their own, their hands intertwined while they exchanged soft words.

The brunette didn’t have too much time to witness the vehicle pull away as he was brought down into another sweeping kiss. It would be several minutes before their cab arrived, and while usually, he shied away from such gratuitous displays of physical intimacy, the sheer fact that he was with Suga made him too fogged over to care.

\----------

**[Dirty.]**

The cab ride and the walk to Suga’s apartment happened in a flying blur, Daichi barely aware of the number of steps they tracked up to the second-floor bungalow. At the front door, the blonde stumbled with his keys, the couple sharing a daze of tender kisses and searching hands, drastically slowing down their entrance into the home. Finally, they breached the entryway, lovers tearing away their shoes and coats as Suga guided them backward through the living room, headed directly toward the bedroom.

Daichi’s heart pounded rapidly in his chest, feeling as though it was threatening to break his ribcage apart. The sharp scent of tequila lingered on Suga’s mouth as he pressed their lips together in a saccharine kiss. Clever hands snaked up the front of Daichi’s dress shirt, the bottom of it being pulled out of his form-fitted jeans that were growing ever tighter by the blonde’s ministrations. They weren’t drunk, not really, just buzzed from the alcohol in their system, though were more intoxicated by each other. Full lips whispered soft provocations, words that never once felt empty or worthless. They were filled with meaning, with desire, with sentiments long overdue. 

“Koushi,” Daichi said breathlessly as his large palms found the supple skin of his boyfriend’s cheeks, forcing the blonde’s wandering touches to still. Standing there, in the dimly lit hallway just outside of Suga’s room, the young dad needed just a moment of clarity, of certainty, before they proceeded any further. 

“Yes?” his lover asked in return, voice quiet, though hampered with longing. His mouth was mere inches from Daichi’s, and long silver lashes fluttered like gossamer strands of spun silk. That look was hard to resist. 

“I--” Daichi started, but under Suga’s heated gaze, he felt himself wavering. He was certain the blonde was clinging to some sort of fear that he was about to be rejected, apprehension evident in his honey eyes, despite what he could only assume was his best efforts to hide it. It occurred to Daichi that this was probably the slowest Suga had ever gone physically in a relationship, yet somehow, he had remained so patient, never once pressuring him. “I don’t know how much I’m ready for,” he admitted finally, the confession leaving him in a flustered rush.

Suga’s features softened considerably, so much so that it was still quite noticeable even in the low light of the corridor. Slowly, as though he were trying not to spook Daichi, he reached out and curled his slender fingers around the taller man’s forearms. Closing his eyes, he leaned into one the wrists he held and pressed the sweetest kiss to flesh there. “Dai,” he spoke softly, the gentle passing of air tickling his skin, “we can do whatever you want.” Another chaste peck of lips followed, “I don’t have any expectations, so please don’t worry about disappointing me.”

That was the thing though - Daichi felt like he was disappointing himself because he wanted to do it all, everything. There was nothing he wouldn’t give for Koushi Sugawara, and yet, he found himself struggling to move past their coy and flirtatious touches. What was he even really afraid of? They were in a committed relationship, and it was clear that neither of them planned on going anywhere anytime soon. Was it the important conversations they still hadn’t had? Or was it the fact that he simply feared being inadequate next to Suga’s previous lovers just because of his own inexperience? 

He had thought of this moment repeatedly, the fantasies played over and over in his head, this movie reel he enjoyed during those times alone in the shower, the ones that left him dizzy with desire while simultaneously plagued with guilt. He knew he was very much sexually attracted to his boyfriend, without a doubt. What if it was his latter suspicion, and the weight of his insecurities was what was killing him?

“What if I’m bad at… it?” he asked, swallowing thickly, a blush rising to the surface of his skin. He knew he was killing the mood with his line of questioning and his uncertainties. Surely, Suga would find all of this more than a little daunting and exhausting and simply call the whole thing off. 

However, when a sweet giggle left Suga’s lips, a wave of relief crashed over him, causing his hands to leave the blonde’s face and fall slack at his sides. “Daichi, I don’t think you could be bad at anything.” Taking a step forward and sealing their distance once again, Suga threw his arms around the brunette’s neck, giving his boyfriend yet another long, sweeping kiss. A surge of warmth passed through the businessman as Suga pressed their groins together, showcasing their equal excitement. 

There was nothing he could do to govern the moan that vibrated to life in his throat at the connection, further swirling his thoughts. A warm, pink tongue that tasted of sangria rolled into his mouth, licking up and in. This wasn’t their first time kissing, far from it. But it felt different, possessing a quality it never had before: insatiable, hungry, greedy.

“Come with me,” Suga stated as they parted. It was an order and a plea and a wish, all at once, a trifecta of relentless yearning. And all Daichi could do was follow as commanded, each step further into the room feeling as though he were coming to life. 

Suga reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a warm, tungsten glow. Everything in his bedroom was exactly how it had been before, a reflection of Koushi present in each corner. Eclectic, eccentric, unique: Daichi’s idea of a perfect place to call ‘home’. 

An eternity passed in the blink of an eye, and before he knew what to do with himself, he was sitting on a plush mattress, the white duvet bowing under his body weight. Much to his surprise, Suga did not settle down on his lap like he had anticipated. Instead, the blonde dropped to his knees, the flashes of flesh that peeked between stringy lines of denim met the cool hardwood of his bedroom floor.

“K-Koushi?” the seated man stuttered in dismay, unsure how to process what he was seeing. In a gesture that both ignited him and frightened him, Suga splayed his long, narrow fingers over the wide expanse of the brunette’s thick thighs, the digits spread as though they were mapping the wild and uncharted west. 

“You can tell me no, at any time,” Suga reminded him gently. The honey that usually occupied his irises was somehow heavier, making them appear a few shades darker. They were the color of the amber lager in Hajime’s pint glass at the bar, as rich as the pigment of refined andalusite held to the midday sun. 

“What if I don’t want to say no?” Even Daichi found himself questioning his own sudden, bold reply. Maybe the lust was clogging his brain, making it malfunction. Or maybe just about anyone would take a single glance at Suga down on his knees with that tender expression on his face and feel rendered incapacitated. 

“Then please don’t.” Like a magician working an act of sleight of hand, Koushi’s deft fingers set to work. The slow drag of his zipper, the unmistakable, metallic crawl of the brass unbinding, sounded so loud in his ears, though it was a miracle he could hear anything at all over the frantic racing of his heart. Slowly, Suga passed his tongue across his bottom lip, making the pink edges of his mouth shine under the tungsten, glistening like dew drops on blades of grass.

“Stand up just a moment,” the nurse instructed, never peeling that intense gaze away from his lover. The look made Daichi shiver, but all he could do was obey, standing on strained and anxious legs just so Suga could work the denim fabric downward. In a slow reveal, two bulky thighs were unveiled with all the pomp and circumstance of a fabled artifact. They were a true set, matching in thickness and strength. A fevered flush rushed across Daichi’s face and neck, an identical one warming Suga’s expression as well. Finally, his jeans met his ankles, every inch of long, toned legs on display. However, Suga’s eyes remained fixed on one central location, and that was the unsubtle bulge in the front of his dark gray briefs.

///

The little wet patch at the front was mouthwatering, but the size, even when covered by a thin layer of cotton, was truly unmatched. The tequila in his veins turned to kerosene, fanning the long-smoldering fire that had been building his stomach from the first day he laid on eyes on the broad brunette. Even though he was attempting to control his desires, he allowed his long fingers to trace over the swollen muscle at the apex of Daichi’s legs. The tanned skin was covered in the finest of dark hairs, soft and nearly impossible to see in the darkened room. Everything about this man was beautiful, as though he were chiseled from cut marble and brought to life with the breath of the gods.

Umber eyes swirled like molten chocolate, rich and sweet, as a raging red color took to his face and neck. But despite his attempts to hide his nervousness or building emotion, Suga could see it. Clearly, a little liquid courage couldn’t quite quell the anxiety that afflicted him. 

Curling his fingers behind Daichi’s knees, running the pads over the depressions there, Suga released a staggering breath. Just as he had done before in the hall, he began to place careful, wet kisses all along the trembling muscle. Much to his pleasure, a natural reaction kicked in, and Daichi’s hands found their way to the nurse’s shoulders, an attempt to steady himself. 

As Suga’s nose brushed up against the tender flesh present there, the breath evacuated his lungs, filling him instead with the alluring scent of the other man’s body wash. He always smelled good; earthy, like dense woods washed in summer rain. Suga was dead set to use every one of his five senses to worship the man before him. 

“ _Daichi_ ,” he whispered before lightly catching an inch of skin between his gwaning teeth. This action pulled the first earnest, unmanageable moan from Daichi, and Suga felt himself harden at the sound. 

“Fuck,” came the unfiltered expletive from the other man’s mouth. 

With one final long kiss, Suga pulled his head away, hands still anchored to Daichi’s knees. He could feel his whole body shaking as well, the manifestation of his surmounting lust, the fervor building in his bones, threatening to take him over. 

“Will you take off your shirt?” Suga requested, unable to wait any longer. He wanted to see all of Daichi, finally. Not just through a phone camera or in his devious thoughts. He longed to pay proper homage to the man he was falling madly in love with.

Instead of answering audibly, Daichi nodded, removing his hands from Suga’s shoulders in order to lift the hem of his shirt. In one fell swoop, the garment breached his head, mussing his dark locks in the process. The top landed somewhere on the floor near the dresser, the shred of fabric long forgotten once it began its flight through the air.

Before him was the living replica of every wet dream Suga had ever had, dating all the way back to his early teens. He had seen the man’s body a small handful of times, but nothing equated to being inches from it in this setting, mere heartbeats away from acting on their needs and wants and wishes. Suga’s eyes traced across the smooth, blemishless skin stretched over broad shoulders and corded biceps. He had a defined chest and washboard abs, the latter area lined with a neatly trimmed happy trail. And oh, happy Suga was at the sight of the dark, masculine hair that disappeared beneath the offending waistband of his boxers.

“Holy shit,” Suga breathed, drinking it all in. He hadn’t the faintest idea of how long he kneeled there, memorizing every divot, every plane, every single crease. Fuck, Suga had truly brought his heartfelt offerings to the proper altar.

“Is this… okay?” Daichi asked demurely, pressing one shy hand to the back of his neck. Clearly, he was feeling a bit self-conscious, but the reason as to why was completely lost on Suga. The man could be an underwear or swimsuit model, and the blonde would gladly buy every magazine he would ever be featured in. 

Suga could do nothing to contain the amused laughter that fluttered in his chest as he answered, “asks the man with a body capable of making Adonis cry in jealousy?”

Daichi flushed carmine at that response. “I--” he started, then stopped, bringing a sheepish gaze to the floor beside Suga. “I just, feel really exposed, I guess.”

“How about I even the playing field?” Suga proposed as he rose to his feet. However, when he went to reach for the hem of his sweater, two large hands stopped him. For the slightest moment, the blonde was sure that his boyfriend was trying to bar him completely, to call the whole thing off. But instead, he asked another question, one that reminded Suga just how wonderful and considerate Daichi truly was. 

“May I?” he asked gently, the tips of his fingers pinching at the soft fabric. Suga nodded, obediently raising his hands in the air, honoring his boyfriend’s request. As the cashmere texture brushed his chest, for the faintest moment, Suga found himself wondering what Daichi’s mouth would feel like in its place. The thought caused his breath to hitch in his lungs.

Finally, the top fell away and all that was left was his own jeans, skin-tight to his slender legs. The garment felt so stuffy and suffocating, as he was surely melting from the sheer magnitude of Daichi’s body heat. Umber eyes searched him over, as though returning Suga’s favor from moments ago; memorizing, cherishing, treasuring. Instead of feeling insecure beneath that burgeoning stare, the young nurse instead felt validated, as though he were a priceless piece of art admired by the most influential savant. He wasn’t just a body, not just a vessel who existed for carnal pleasure and nothing more. Here, he was truly loved and adored, viewed as a whole person.

“Can I touch you?” The fact that the brunette even asked was enough to nearly make Suga weep. This man was too earnest. 

“Of course,” he answered because he wouldn’t dream of saying anything else, not to Daichi. It didn’t matter that someone else had been here before, had etched the canyons of Suga’s clavicle, and tracked the delicate seam of his neck. Because with Daichi, it all felt like the first time anyway. Truly, it was as though every ounce of him were virginal, never once revered by anyone else. For the faintest instant he began to question if this brand of gentle consideration was something he actually deserved, though after catching the look of unbridled wonderment on the brunette’s face, those feelings quickly dissipated, vanishing like thin smoke. 

A sense of urgency rolled through Suga at that realization, that the man before him possessed hands that were created to build up, to admire, to venerate. He didn’t have it in him to do anything else but be considerate and loving. There was an innocence to him, unlike any lover the blonde had ever seen before. 

No longer could Suga simply standby and contain himself, idly watching as Daichi made measured, careful movements. The anticipation was too great, weighing too heavily on him. The blonde’s eager set of lips found an unsuspecting pair, the two meeting in an exchange of passion and ardor. Daichi tasted so wonderful, the remnants of his beer barely lingering, allowing his natural flavor to pull through. Everything about him was so absolutely divine, right down to the very essence of his tongue. 

“Ah, Suga,” he hissed breathlessly as the blonde fell to his knees once more, leaving bruising kisses across a toned body the whole way down. Deft fingers slipped under the bottom band of Daichi’s boxers, reaching below the dark material until they curled around the waistband from underneath. The ridges of his knuckles were pressed into the heated flesh of Daichi’s thighs, one single pull separated fantasy from reality.

“May I?” He mirrored the words Daichi asked only moments ago, breath bated as it rattled from his throat. In all honesty, Daichi’s erection looked painful, as though it were begging to be freed from its cotton prison.

The back of a large, quivering hand found its way to Daichi’s kiss-swollen lips, a gesture that hinted that he was in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded in affirmation, eyes glassy and fixated. Not one to linger, Suga acted confidently, pulling the offending garment down so that he could finally see every perfect inch of his boyfriend.

The sound that left Suga upon seeing Daichi fully nude should have embarrassed him. In any other circumstance or with anyone else, it might have. But truly, every millimeter of the man was flawless, and this portion proved to be no exception. Summoning every scrap of coherency that remained in the crevices of his skull, he gripped Daichi’s hips and guided him to sit once more, as it would be the most comfortable position for what was next. 

“ _Koushi_.” Never would Suga tire of hearing his name spoken so sweetly, whispered as softly as a prayer, gasped as fervently as a devotional. He situated himself between Daichi’s knees, a spark of electricity bolting up his spine, settling into rolling shockwaves in his stomach. Once again, those large hands, so formidable and strong, reached out only to offer comfort and kindness, gentle reassurance. “You don’t have to--”

“Please let me.” He wasn’t in the habit of begging, especially not for love or affection. But this wasn’t like that, not at all. This was simply his desire to give Daichi something, to form an intimate bond, to take their relationship one step further. He was so grateful that such an incredibly loving man had entered his life, and he wanted to express that.

With a gentle nod of his head, Daichi curled on hand around the back of the slender column of Suga’s neck. It felt so natural and comfortable to Suga, it’s presence heavy and burning like a brand he never wanted to remove. Daichi’s free hand affectionately swept his bangs away from his eyes, thumb smoothing over the sweat-lined skin of his forehead. The brunette leaned forward then, placing a gentle kiss to the beauty mark in the corner of the nurse’s eye. Pewter lashes closed at the contact, basking in the act of adoration, the tender intimacy sweeter than any sugar syrup. 

The look in Daichi’s eyes as he pulled back was unprecedented, glazed over with not just lust, but something so analogous to love that Suga felt as though static electricity occupied his extremities, buzzing, making them numb with anticipation. _I feel the same way_ , he thought, while praying that was what his face was also conveying. 

Inching just a bit closer, making the space between them almost non-existent, Suga took his right hand and wrapped it around the thick shaft. He was beautiful, the length hardened and heavy under his touch, flushed the most beautiful shade of magenta, already leaking at the tip. Daichi hissed at the connection, as though the minimal touch was already over-stimulating. The brunette’s grip on Suga’s hair tightened slightly, the last token of encouragement that the smaller man needed.

With the eager tip of his tongue, Suga lapped the smallest kitten lick to the head, allowing himself to savor the salty taste. Yet again, Daichi made a small noise of affirmation, reassuring that his careful and slow ministrations were light yet still quite satisfying. One, two, three more times, he flattened out his tongue over the crown, the pink muscle curving to the shape of the head.

Suga’s name became a drawn-out moan as he continued, his full lips meeting the tip in a simple, feathery kiss. Slowly, Suga pumped his right hand, enjoying the slow drag of flesh under his grasp while his left hand groped the thick muscle of Daichi’s thigh, nails faintly scratching at the skin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Koushi,” the brunette whispered from above him, tears pricking at his already glass-like eyes, the irises now the color of the rich earth after a rainstorm. 

And oh, how Suga planned to be a rainstorm, battering down this man’s walls with a dogged ferocity, taking him apart bit by bit, until all that remained was the unapologetic rawness he so helpless sought after. 

With that notion in mind, the blonde dipped his head and closed his eyes, swallowing Daichi whole. Alas, his wretched torment had come to an end, and he was finally acting on his long-held desires. Hand and mouth working tandem, he bobbed his head, pink lips wetting soft flesh until his nose touched the trim, dark hairs present at Daichi’s lower abdomen. God, did he taste divine, the length and the girth both so perfect.

“S-Suga--” Daichi cried out from somewhere above, the grunt like a candied melody, rimmed with sugar though all he could taste was salt. His tongue stuck out over his bottom teeth, pulling upward to paint a wet stripe up the length of the shaft. Carefully, Suga slipped his hand underneath, capturing his lover’s velveteen sack, gently rolling it between nimble, scrupulous fingers. 

The sensation must have electrified Daichi, as his hips involuntarily bucked forward, making Suga take him even deeper. Tears welled in his own eyes at the zealous gesture, but still, he never slowed. It was too delicious, absolutely everything he could have ever hoped for. In his own jeans, he could feel himself close to bursting, to coming undone in his pants like a teenage boy, without ever being touched. It didn’t matter though, because tonight wasn’t about him: it was about the man he was pleasuring, the man could feel himself falling for, with no end in sight. For the first time in his life, Daichi was finally getting to be his true self, and act on his sexuality. And Suga was prepared to blow his mind. 

Another breathless moan resounded, Daichi scrambling for purchase in the nurse’s ashen locks as though he were hanging on for dear life. The tugging at his scalp fueled him, and he opened his eyes just in time to look up and see Daichi appear absolutely _wrecked_ , his bare and muscled chest colored scarlet, evidence of his heated exhilaration. Meanwhile, his cut abdomen was clenched tight, cinched and hardened from arousal, a testimony to his impending release. 

Suga swallowed him down yet again, the head touching the eager and pliant walls at the back of his throat. In some sick way, Suga hoped that he could still feel it tomorrow, that his throat would burn every time he took even the slightest sip of water. He needed that as proof that this night wasn’t just another one of his fantasies. That it was as real as the man writhing beneath him, moments from climaxing. 

At that instant, Daichi’s whole body pulled taut like a bowstring, ready to snap, to unravel, to come undone. The sweet, sweet man tried to warn Koushi, the blonde’s name leaving him in a jumbled litany, a broken, desirous hymn. But Suga had no plans to abide by this indication, as he was simply deadset on one goal. He quickened his pace, bringing his lover right to the edge until finally, he broke, the brunette arching his back as he came. 

Suga felt as though he were drowning in the best way possible, the sticky substance coating his throat, his mouth, filling an already very full cavern. He choked a little but remained adamant to swallow it all. Vaguely, he heard ‘ _Koushi, Koushi, baby,’_ whispered into his hair as Daichi doubled over, placing messy kisses into the strands of silver. In a lewd pop, Suga removed his mouth, his tongue circling his lips, keeping every ounce to himself, savoring every drop.

Blinking blearily, Suga slowly came back to himself, bringing the back of his wrist to swipe at his lips. He could feel that they were swollen, overworked, and out of practice from such an activity. Out of practice, maybe, but not unskilled, given the absolute rubbery quality of Daichi’s body. The broad man had turned to butter melted in the summer sun, his brown eyes simmering, cooling down after boiling over. 

“That was--” he stated breathlessly, pulling at his own dark brown locks, the other hand still clutching onto Suga’s bare shoulder. The blonde could feel his own ragged breath as his adrenaline lightened, though his pent up arousal did not. “You didn’t have to, ah,” he huffed, catching his breath, “swallow that.”

Suga giggled then, amused. “You’ll learn pretty quickly I don’t do anything unless I want to.” He winked then, keeping the gesture sultry. “And it tasted pretty good.”

Daichi chuckled at that comment, pulling the smaller man into a tight embrace. Suga hooked his pointed chin over his boyfriend’s square shoulder as the larger man pulled them down, back into the comforting oasis of the plush bed. Dai was so warm, like a furnace, the radiation of his body heat addicting. Twin arms covered in toned muscle encaptured Suga, their naked chests flush to one another. The blonde closed his eyes, finally convinced that this wasn’t a dream.

///

A million thoughts spun in his head despite how absolutely blissed out he felt. That _just_ happened. It definitely wasn’t one of those dirty montages he conjured in his frontal lobe to achieve release when alone. In fact, it was so much better than any lackluster fantasy he could spin up, given his utter lack of experience. Suga’s face had been so erotic, and all he could do was watch from above, as though outside of his own body, while his beautiful lover took him in, over and over. Watching his length disappear into such a gorgeous, skilled mouth while Suga’s hands performed their acts of magic had been nothing short of unforgettable. Daichi had no idea something could feel that good, that he could be torn apart and put back together, all with the same action. 

And now, the object of his unwavering affection was curled up in his arms, pressed to his chest, the light mass so welcome and pleasant. It took all of Daichi’s strength to press kisses to the nurse’s temple and cheeks, the soft skin dampened from perspiration. “Koushi,” he called, his own voice sounding raw and utterly destroyed. 

“Hmm?” Suga hummed against him, the vibration of his chest causing goosebumps to break out over Daichi’s tanned flesh.

“Can I touch you, too?”

Suga stilled, and at first, Daichi was scared he had just suddenly said the wrong thing. In order to make eye contact, the brunette rolled them over, Suga landing on his own blanket with a quiet ‘thud’. They laid opposite of each other, perpendicular in the bed, feet hanging off the edge of the mattress. It was then that the young dad’s heart clenched tighter in his chest: Suga was crying, hot, fat tears leaving his reddening eyes at an alarming rate.

“Shit!” Daichi quickly bolted upward, propping himself up on his elbow, his free hand immediately cupping one tear-stained cheek in his open palm. “Did I hurt you? Are you alright?”

A wet, sobering laugh left Suga’s chest, and Daichi was unsure of what it meant. Maybe had actually hurt his lover and now Suga was simply trying to brush it off. _Damn it,_ he thought, cursing himself. He knew he shouldn’t have picked up his hips during, but it was too hard not to. He felt like he was chasing a high and couldn’t come down, that his body had taken over his brain, the vital organ just a melted puddle in his skull. 

Suga didn’t answer Daichi’s question, instead, raised one of his own. “You actually want to touch me, too?” he asked after agonizing moments. It seemed as though his own grip on reality was playing catch up, too. Daichi was not alone in that.

“Of course I do.” That wasn’t a lie, far from it. Of course, he did. More than anything! More than he wanted to be touched, he wanted to do the touching; to give Suga a fraction of what was given to him. 

“I won’t last long,” Suga admitted, long arms stretched lazily above his head, nimble hands hanging over the opposite end of the bed. He resembled a sleek and slender cat, all lean muscle and agile limbs. Across his porcelain skin was a smattering of tiny freckles and angel kisses, resembling a distant constellation. He was ethereal, stunning, cosmic, as though touched by the heavens themselves. 

“I don’t care.” Daichi eyed the bulge in the front of those sinfully tight button-fly jeans. Never had he felt the urge to violently remove a garment, but the idea was sounding better and better with each passing second. 

“Then, be my guest.”

As the words of consent passed his lips, Daichi’s hands flew to the first of the four buttons, large fingers dutifully taking to the brass. One by one they popped open, and with each fastening, Daichi littered a corresponding kiss somewhere on Suga’s lithe, trembling body, working his way upward. First, his flat, perfect stomach, then his slight chest, all the way to his gorgeous neck, until he was met with supple, reddened lips, the taste of his own semen still present in the blonde’s mouth. He didn’t mind, in fact, it only fanned him further.

“ _Daichi_ .” It was Suga’s turn to gasp as his jeans, along with his boxer briefs, were pulled downward, fabric mercilessly clinging to milk-white thighs. Just as he imagined, Suga was the image of beauty. His pale member was flushed and pink, matching the flowery fuschia color of his pert nipples. The shaft was slender and lean, just like Suga, the head pretty and leaking. The moisture left his mouth at the understanding that this was _his_ doing. The blonde’s body was reacting to _him_. He alone was causing his lover to fall apart, and nothing could have made him happier. 

Casually, Daichi licked his palm before wrapping it around the base. Suga whined on contact, throwing his head back into the blanket, his gray hair splayed like a halo around him. Blunt nails met the skin of Daichi’s forearm, but even the mild pain brought so much pleasure. He wanted Suga to hold onto him harder, to leave marks, to never let go. 

“ _Baby_ ,” Daichi uttered like a praise as twisted his wrist, pumping up and down, using the same rhythm that Suga had during oral. His boyfriend had been so close even before they began and Daichi longed to bring him to a full release.

“Will you come for me, Koushi?” he asked, leaning down to whisper into that gorgeously alabaster neck. If the twitching spasms taking place beneath his touch were any indication, Suga was going to finish at any moment. 

“Yes!” he sobbed, throwing a forearm over his eyes. Daichi would have none of that, though, grabbing the wrist and pushing it away. He wanted to see the exact look his beautiful face would make as he came. And no, not just so the memory could be engraved in his mind forever, but because there was a vulnerability in it, to showing someone that unabashed expression made in the throes of passion.

It was better than Daichi could have ever imagined as two gray brows pinched together over lust-brimmed eyes, watery and leaking tears of pleasure. His lush bottom lip was held captive between two rows of teeth, the ferocity of the bite sure to leave a reddened impression. 

As Suga’s eyes fell to a close, a nearly inaudible cry left him, the sound so hoarse and wrecked as he spilled into Daichi’s fist. Some leaked past the enclosed digits and slipped onto his stomach, coating a trim stomach in thick ropes of white. Suga’s chest rattled with his shaking breaths as he came down, body falling lax as though morphing into the mattress. 

Daichi could only sit back on his heels and marvel at it all. It was truly a vision, unprecedented and unparalleled. Finally, he had achieved something he had so long desired. It wasn’t just acting on his sexuality, not at all. If it had, he would have fooled around with that hot blonde with the tongue piercing a few years ago. No, this was also about getting to do these things with a man that he cared about and also valued his feelings in return.

Not even with his wife, whom he loved dearly, did he ever feel anything close to what he was now. Truly, he felt seen for the very first time in his life. He was gay and in love with a man, nothing simpler than that.

“Daichi?” Suga asked, cracking open an eye to stare up at his lover. His face was still red from exertion, though his breathing had somewhat stabilized. “Are you alright?”

“ _Perfect_ ,” he decided, unable to come up with a better word. He ducked his head and captured that gorgeous mouth with his once more. It wasn’t the heated exchange from moments ago, rather, they were simply sharing the same breath, sealing their affair with a tender kiss. 

“God, you’re wonderful,” Koushi sighed, not even opening his eyes once Daichi parted, clearly very worn out. After a long night at the bar and of course, their mind-blowing tryst, he was probably feeling exhausted. Daichi certainly was - tired, but so very sated. 

“The same could be said of you,” the brunette cooed, thumbing carefully at that tiny speck in the corner of his lover’s eye. “Let me go get something to wipe you off.”

Suga could only hum in agreement as Daichi made his way off the bed and into the ensuite bathroom. He washed his hands prior to wetting down a washcloth, returning to the room to find that his boyfriend had fallen asleep. As delicately as possible, he swiped the warm fabric across the sticky skin on his stomach, being mindful not to wake him. Then, after abandoning the soiled rag in the hamper he tracked down two pairs of sleep shorts: one for him, and one for Suga. Thankfully, the nurse had a pair that was a bit too big, and Daichi felt comfortable sliding his pair on. Suga was another story, and the blonde had to be slightly roused enough to slip his on. 

Once they were both settled under the blankets, Daichi flicked the bedside lamp off. “Goodnight, baby,” the young dad whispered sweetly in gray hair, pulling his slender lover into his broad chest. It felt so natural, laying like this, falling asleep. His large hand splayed out over a pale chest, content to feel the steady, relaxed heartbeat thrumming beneath the tips of his fingers.

 _I love him_ , he heard himself think as his dark eyes closed. _I love him so much._

///

Caught somewhere in the precipice between dreamland and reality, he was vaguely aware of the strong arm that anchored him in place, of the hot breath on his neck, of the thick thigh wedged in between his legs. Just as he was drifting off, a thought popped into his head, free and floating, so buoyant he couldn’t reign in it. 

_I really love him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughter*  
> SO THEY MADE A MOVE, Y'ALL!!
> 
> Please leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts. I seriously love you all soooo stinking much and I value your feedback more than you know. I went back to work this week after the holiday break and it has been hellish, but working on this provides me a reprieve that I can't explain. This is my solace, and I love writing for y'all. I just hope you continue to love this story. You guys motivate me and keep me moving!! BLESS YOU!!
> 
> next time:  
> \- The morning after
> 
> Also, watch the side stories for KuroKen going home together (no spice, all fluff and love)


	23. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **BEFORE YOU CONTINUE!** I need y'all to STOP and go check out this AMAZING fan art from my friend umicrunch!! It is of baby Tobio and Sho baking the cake oh my GOD - please check it out [**HERE**](https://photogiraffe77.tumblr.com/post/640025840876421120/posted-with-permission-from-artist-do-not-repost) and please please PLEASE leave her some love in the comments about how amazing it is. I am in TEARS!!
> 
>  **C/W** for this chapter; This is nothing but a big pile of hurt/comfort. Mostly comfort. But it does deal a lot with processing abuse and death and trauma. 
> 
> See you at the bottom for more notes.

It was the instant that he opened his eyes only to spy the soft tangles of gray hair just mere inches from his face, traced in the waxing light of the rising sun, that Daichi Sawamura decided that the man in his arms would never feel less loved than he did today. Because how much Daichi would love him tomorrow? Immeasurable. And the next day? Infinitely. The day after that? Unfathomable.

Yes, from this day forward, Daichi would make sure the gorgeous nurse knew just how much he was loved and adored, how truly worthy of reverence he was. Never would a moment pass by that Koushi felt anything less than treasured, at least not as long the brunette had anything to say about it. So long as Daichi was given the privilege of being in this man’s life, be it as his boyfriend, or any other title he might be gifted, he would ensure to make Suga the happiest man alive, his wants and needs coming in second only to Tobio’s.

As his dark eyes adjusted to the soft lighting of the bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel as though this were something he could grow accustomed to. They had shared a bed a handful of times, but there was something innately different about this. Last night, something had changed between them - they formed a bond that deeply affected him at his very soul, his center core. He was able to speak an entirely new love language, physical touch born of his inner desires he had to keep capped for so long. 

But not here.

Not with Suga.

Not anymore.

Carefully, as not to jostle his sleeping boyfriend, Daichi snaked his hand higher, splaying out his thick fingers across his pale clavicle, the bone so sharp and defined, almost cutting in how angular it was. Applying a little pressure, he was able to pull Suga tighter into him further, the bare back that was flecked with freckles and angel kisses felt wonderful against his own broad-set chest. In an effort to indulge himself, he pushed his nose against the fine, silver hair located at the nape, catching a whiff of his citrus shampoo. It smelled so vibrant and alive, two words that best described his gorgeous lover.

“Dai?” came a quiet voice, still clinging to the heaviness of sleep. 

“I’m here,” he whispered in return, lips ghosting over the pale flesh where Suga’s slender neck met his toned shoulders. Maybe someday, Daichi could sink his teeth in there, paint the porcelain a stark red and bruising purple, sucking blossoms of the most colorful lilacs and violets. Not today, but he still tucked the idea away. Though now that he had been given a taste, he wasn’t sure if they would soon reach a stopping point. All in due time, though the small flicker that had remained dormant was now a raging inferno instead.

“I’m glad.” A hand met Daichi’s, folding over where it was placed across his chest, their fingers sliding together, uniting them in just one more way. Perhaps, this was the most intimate and meaningful of all, a simple gesture, but one that neither party would likely ever take for granted. There was a level of affection and familiarity to it that wasn't easily replicated.

“I will always be here.” That was a promise, one Daichi swore to always make good on. Falling in love with Suga had happened as simply and naturally as breathing, inhaling and exhaling, taking in the richness of his personality, the vibrance of his being. Everything about him was beautiful, and not just physically. True beauty was seated in his humor and that musical laugh that accompanied it. It existed within his honey eyes, warm and pure, twin windows to his old soul. It manifested in his kind heart, so freely giving to others, born of a desire to nurture and care. It was in the way that he looked so angelic though was anything but, truly devilish and coy, in the best way possible.

How Daichi wanted to tell him those three words he thought last night before he drifted off to sleep. How he wished and longed, but was still so afraid.

_ It’s too soon. Don’t scare him away.  _

_ You’ll know when the time is right.  _

That same quiet voice from moments ago pulled him from his thoughts. “Thank you.”

Thank you? For what? Why did he sound so sad saying it?

Gently, Daichi pulled away, using his upper body strength to roll his lover over, to get a better look at this serene face. It was always so ethereal in the morning. How one creature could look so breathtaking, he had no idea. Gray hair was mussed from where he had laid against the pillow, ashen and messy, resembling a bird’s nest. But  _ god  _ was it lovely, in spite of its madness. Pewter lashes, thick and curved, curled gracefully away from his big, brown eyes. They always looked so much softer when touched with the amber light of the new dawn. And that mole, that little angel kiss that Daichi would thank whatever eavesdropping deity for its existence, feeling so blessed that it was there, like the punctuation at the end of a perfectly written poem. And how those full cheeks held onto the faintest remnants of a blush, pink and precious, as though they were begging to be kissed and touched so softly. And finally, those lips. Full and parted, breathing still gentle from where he had been wrapped in the safety of sleep. How he longed to admire and revere every fiber, every corner, every inch, without ceasing.

“What are you saying ‘ _ thank you _ ’ for?” Daichi asked after a long moment, carefully clutching Suga’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head at just the right angle. Slowly, he smoothed a calloused thumb across the supple skin just below his quivering bottom lip.

To that question, Suga only sighed, closing his eyes, leaning into the touch. He took a staggering breath as though he were scraping together the courage to answer.  _ Tell me _ , Daichi begged, eyes growing watery at the sight of Suga’s internal struggle,  _ open up to me.  _

“For being here,” he replied finally, voice caught in his throat, heavy not just with lingering sleep, but something more... something burdensome. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.” A strong, powerful hand traced the edge of a sharp jawline, moving carefully across it until his fingers came up and combed through dusty locks, deft fingers working out a soft tangle.

“I have been afraid.” When his eyes opened again, it stole all the oxygen from Daichi’s lungs. Somehow, even tears looked beautiful on Suga, though Daichi wished to never see them, to never cause them, lest they be evidence of abundant joy. 

“Is that why you cried?”

Suga made a thrumming noise low in his throat as he leaned into the touch, the soft blanket slipping over his shoulder, giving way to more porcelain skin. “Yes.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

A stern shake of his head. “No, you didn’t.” 

“Will you tell me what you’re afraid of?” He knew so little, bits and pieces hinted at by Hajime during their talk at the basketball court. Someone, an ex-boyfriend, had mistreated such a kind, loving soul. That was all he knew, but apparently, that lackluster summary wasn’t the only information he needed. If he sought to truly keep Suga safe, and make him feel comfortable when they were together, he had to sincerely listen. The sweet nurse had made a continuous effort to ensure that Daichi felt like his story was heard, never once making him feel bad about his past or like his trauma didn’t matter. It was long overdue that he returned the favor.

“I’m not afraid anymore.” The admission brought Daichi surmounting relief, but at the same, did nothing to quell the need to listen. So long as tears existed in the corners of Koushi’s eyes, he would fight to dry them.

Their lips were mere inches apart, electricity hanging between them in a thin gap that craved to be closed. However, Daichi had to yield to that desire, for what Suga needed now was to be heard, to feel connected and truly safe. 

“I am relieved,” the brunette whispered, pushing a strand of hair behind his lover’s ear, never once breaking eye contact. “But you can tell me what it is, whatever it is.” His voice was measured and even, never breaking. He wanted to be strong for Suga. “I want to listen to you, just like how you have listened to me all these times.”

A little laugh left the blonde then, the sound boiling over with nervousness. He pushed his face forward, burying his nose in Daichi’s bicep. The young dad could feel the warm breath seep into his thick muscle. Soothingly, he enclosed the smaller man in his embrace, methodically tracing loving circles in between his shoulder blades.

“I just want to preface with,” he sounded anxious, as though he were afraid to offend his boyfriend, “that I know you’re not the same. And I’ve known that for the entire duration that we’ve been together. But…” he let his voice trail off.

“It’s okay, Koushi,” the brunette encouraged him, rubbing a soothing circle in his back. 

“I still had fears.” His words were slow as he picked up his head, removing himself from the safety of the hideout in his broad lover’s chest. A faint blush took to his face and neck, and his eyes didn’t find Daichi’s this time. Instead, they focused unseeing, staring at a spot on the wall over his head. 

Daichi wouldn’t push his boyfriend, giving him some space to think. He knew it was better to wait, as clearly, he was working through things. There was something he needed to explain or recount, and the taller man would let him.  _ Everything in due time _ , his mother would always tell him growing up. Mama Sawamura was a wealth of wisdom, but perhaps her greatest piece of advice was ‘ _ never rush something you want to last forever _ ’. And how Daichi longed for this to last forever. 

“I met someone… in college.” 

That’s how the story began, those five words preceding one of the most harrowing tales Daichi would ever come to hear. Over the next hour, he could only listen, a multitude of emotions swelling in his chest as his lover recounted a relationship from his time in college. It was his first real relationship, apart from experimental hookups. This person was a member of the basketball team with Hajime, a guy who claimed to be straight, but made an ‘exception’ for Suga -- he had known that fact, but just hearing Suga talk about it first hand made his skin crawl. Gavin sounded more monster than man, and while his boyfriend withheld some details, it wasn’t hard to figure out the missing pieces.

“He was very controlling,” Suga explained, “like, always telling me what I could or couldn’t wear, or what I could or couldn’t do. I was even foolish enough to let him put an app on my phone to track my location, always wanting to know who I was with.” He pushed tears away with a palm. “He just made these excuses and I fell for them, hook, line, and sinker. And I don't even know why I did that. I just… felt like I was under a spell, ya know? Like I was kinda bewitched.”

Daichi could only hold him as he listened, Suga’s cheek pressed up against a hardened pec while their hands met over his toned abdomen, interlaced. During something Daichi found exceptionally painful, he gave that hand a squeeze, a reassurance, reminding him that they were here now, in Suga’s bedroom, far away from the things that could hurt him. In his arms, wrapped in a featherdown duvet and the early light of morning, Koushi was safe and loved and heard. 

“You’re not foolish,” he reassured with a loving stroke over his hair. “I can’t even imagine what you went through.” And truly, he couldn’t. He also couldn’t imagine ever wanting to control Suga, or change him, or altering his personality in any way. What kind of vile, horrible creature would do that to another person? 

“We were only together for a handful of months, but fuck, it felt more like years. I had to be a secret for him since he was ashamed of me. But I couldn’t even see my friends. He was even jealous of Tooru and Hajime like they were somehow corrupting me and I was thefore corrupting him. Like, what the actual hell?” 

Ten years had passed since this  _ Gavin  _ character had walked in, then subsequently, walked out (or rather, Suga punched him out. That part brought Daichi a lot of joy.) A decade had come and gone and the trauma still had a grip on Koushi, acting as tethers, weights tied around his ankles before he was tossed into tempest waters.

“Daichi, I’m so ashamed.”

“Don’t be, please,” the brunette whispered, hugging the man closer, giving his thigh a consoling squeeze. “ _ He _ should be ashamed of the way he treated you. You’re so goddamn perfect, Koushi.” A quiet sob left the nurse at that comment, fresh tears melting into Daichi’s tanned flesh. “To act like that, to put someone through that… god, he’s truly a fucking creep. If anything, you should be proud of yourself for where you are now, and who it is that you’ve become.” He nosed along the shorter man’s hairline, leaving soft kisses in his wake. “I am so proud of you for getting out of that situation and still being brave enough to try again.”

Time was a miracle-worker in the healing department, this much Daichi knew for sure, not just from his own experiences, but Kuroo’s and Yui’s as well. But it wasn’t a cure-all. There were wounds of abuse, neglect, and violent mistreatment that could never completely heal over, just to name a few. Some parts, whether it was big or small, would stay behind and still resonate. The person could be whole again, and feel healthy and fulfilled and genuinely happy, but still, it would be there, waiting in the shadows for a momentary lapse in defenses, eager to poison once more. 

That was the thing about his boyfriend - never before would Daichi have guessed he had been abused or mistreated. He still had this air about him, a jovial and light-hearted quality. Even his smile was like the sun, radiant and warm, casting a glow on everyone who saw it. Despite the horrible things he had been put through - physically, emotionally, and even sexually, he still thought the world was beautiful and that love was something worth having, worth sharing. 

Suga was so much like Yui in this regard, and that revelation caused his internal organs to tighten. In his short time on earth, he had been blessed enough to love not just one selfless, incredible, kind human, but now, two. While the love one for would always be different than the love for the other, still, the thought remained. 

“Thank you for saying that to me,” he whispered, his story finished, fresh tears in both of their eyes. The morning sun had gotten higher in the sky, the warmth of it basking the room as it filtered in through the white chiffon curtains along the east wall. 

“I mean it, Koushi. I don’t think you’re foolish or stupid or whatever other negative words you may have slipped in there to describe yourself. I think Gavin is those things and then some.”

Suga laughed then, the sound of it wet and crude, as though his chest were filled with fluid from crying. “Hajime has a series of words he won’t repeat in polite company.”

“I hope to hear them one day.”

“Are you not polite company?” the blonde teased, and Daichi laughed in return.

“Afraid not.”

“Hmm,” Suga hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose I’ll have to return you then.”

“Non-refundable.” Daichi winked, and Suga giggled. They laid like that for a long moment, letting their laughs subside. “But in all seriousness,” his question began, “you were worried that I was straight and that you were an exception to me? Is that correct?”

They weren’t looking at each other and his tone wasn’t angry or accusatory, it had no right to be. Daichi’s gaze was fixed on the popcorn ceiling above their heads. Suga remained curled up on his chest, the warmth from his slender body only mildly addicting. One of Daichi’s large palms was pressed flat to the small of Suga’s back, the other resting on his narrow shoulder, fingers smoothing over the speckled flesh. 

A small sigh left Suga’s lungs, his breath warm. “I wasn’t sure what to think. I know I should have just asked you, but I was worried. I--” he started, then stopped, gathering his thoughts as his jaw clicked shut. He had swallowed his words, as if afraid to say them.

“You can tell me.” Never would Suga’s worries or fears anger him. They were human things to feel, very real, very tangible. If they existed, then Daichi would do whatever in his power to ease them. And if he couldn’t ease them, then he could at the very least listen, which was what this morning had proved to be all about. 

“I don’t want to offend you, or think that I feel this way now.” Suga sat up then, propping himself on one elbow to get a better view of his lover’s face. “Because I don’t, Daichi.” There was a raw sincerity in his tone that even touched his eyes, his whole expression radiating overwhelming compassion. 

“You won’t offend me,” the brunette assured his lover, reaching up once again to cup his cheek, swiping a comforting thumb under his thick bottom lashes. “I promise.”

A thoughtful exhale followed a slow inhale; in through his nose, out through his mouth. “I was scared that after your wife died, you sought the company of men because it was too hard to be with another woman.” 

_ Fuck _ . Daichi hadn’t even thought of that, too consumed in the truth, which proved to be the polar opposite. However, now that Suga had said that, it made perfect sense. Of course, that’s what someone would think. Daichi had said he had never had a gay relationship, and clearly, he had slept with his wife if they made a son together. Who wouldn’t draw that conclusion? 

“Shit, babe, no,” he sat up then, too, the blanket now bunched in their laps. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe…” God, he felt so stupid. He had so much to explain himself. 

“Don’t be sorry, please,” Suga begged, dipping forward and wrapping his boyfriend in a tight hug, tucking his chin over his broad shoulder. “It’s okay now. Hajime told me that he took you to play basketball and said how gay you were for his arms, so that helped put my mind at ease.”

Daichi sputtered, only moderately appalled at having been called out. “Hey, that’s not fair! I have eyes in my head just like he has pythons for biceps. You can’t blame me!”

Suga chuckled, genuinely sounding amused by that. “He does have pretty good arms.”

“As good as mine?” Daichi cocked an eyebrow.

“Never,” he assured, kissing his boyfriend playfully on the lips.

Daichi hummed at the contact, then sobered his features once more. “Seriously though, it’s not okay, really. I should have asked to listen sooner, so I could put your mind at ease. I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, summoning his own brand of courage. “I have something I should tell you, too.”

///

With wide eyes, Suga leaned back and regarded his partner. They had spent the better part of the morning in bed, Daichi letting him pour his heart out, speaking the things he’s held onto for all this time. Never once did he judge, or feel offended, at least not personally. The wild glint in his umber eyes told him that if ever given the opportunity, he would tear Gavin’s body apart limb for limb, but there was a waiting list for that event. (Seriously, if Gavin had any body parts left by the time Suga, Tooru, and Hajime were finished with him, then Daichi could terrorize the scraps.)

Like a bird given wings after being caged for so long, Koushi felt like his whole body was singing. Like he was alive and loved, safe and guarded. There was never a moment in the entire time he had spent with Daichi that he felt as though the brunette was anything like his former abuser. Also, when Suga had tried to bring up this abuse with relationships who came after, they all held onto a similar sentiment: that Suga should be over it by now. 

In many ways, he was. No longer did it keep him up at night, the nightmares long subsided (that had a lot to do with Tooru sleeping in his bed and holding him through the worst of it in the subsequent months following the event at the nightclub.) He didn’t look at dates or lovers with fear in his eye, nor did he flinch away from sexual touches. He could finally feel pleasure without the pain or the guilt that somehow he had been tainted or sullied. 

But the memories would always remain. They had faded, the vividness of them, the stinging cruelty of words and hands dulled with each passing day. However, they would always be there, locked away in the back of his mind. It was strange and unpredictable, what might trigger him, making the memories pour back onto himself, fresh as the day they occurred. Some would assume it would be from something blatant, like watching a movie with a plotline that featured an abusive relationship or a news feature detailing a domestic violence arrest. Yes, these things were difficult to endure, but on some level, he expected them.

What he didn’t expect was to see someone at the grocery store with Gavin’s same haircut and color, the sheer similarity causing the savage churning in his stomach to nearly incapacitate him. He was always ill-prepared if a teacher at the school wore his same Armani cologne, the smell of it vomit-inducing, rendering his feet numb and his mouth dry. It was hearing ‘their song’ randomly on the radio and forcefully smashing the button to change the station, then driving white-knuckled the rest of the way to work, a headache forming behind his eyes.

Those are all things he would tell Daichi, in time. He would learn more and more as they grew closer. It wasn’t lost on Suga that his past was a lot to take in, he was just grateful to be heard and validated. And now, his boyfriend was looking at him like he had his own story to tell. 

“I’m listening,” he promised with a tender kiss to Daichi’s cheek. A heat touched his face at that moment, almost shy and innocent in its quality. It was truly lovely to regard. 

“I am a gay man, Koushi,” he explained. “I married my wife because I loved her so much,” Suga knew that Yui, Tobio’s mother, was Daichi and Kuroo’s childhood best friend, “... and I was trying to protect her from a bad situation. I thought by giving her everything she wanted, even if it wasn’t something I wanted for myself, that I could make her happy.” 

He took a deep breath and Suga could only stare as that chiseled chest rose, then fell, the brunette collecting his thoughts with extreme consideration. 

“She was my best friend, Koushi. But I’ve known I was gay since I was fifteen years old. I just never told anyone, not really. I think Kuroo knew based on a very drunken rooftop conversation when we were teenagers,” he chuckled at that memory, which was a good sign. “But I kissed her after her homecoming anyway. I got down on one knee in college and proposed anyway. I put on a suit and said vows and married her anyway, and if I hadn’t done that, I--”

Suga pulled Daichi into him, the large body meeting his chest in a resounding ‘thud’. With soothing murmurs and nimble fingers, he carded through dark hair. “It’s alright. I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

With a choked sob, Daichi replied. “I’ve got you, too.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered, words ghosting along the shell of Daichi’s ear. “I know you do.” 

Several minutes passed like that, in still silence, the only sounds were their beating hearts and concentrated breathing, simply holding their bodies flush under the blanket, enjoying being with someone that mutually cherished the other. He could stay like this forever, truly. 

But he had a better idea.

“Hey Dai?”

“Hmm?” the large man questioned, the vibration felt even up through his own chest. 

“Do you want to take a shower?”

With that proposition, Daichi stuttered, body tensing. “Like, uh, together?” 

“Yeah, it can be a platonic shower,” Suga explained, sitting back to observe Daichi’s flustered expression. “But let’s clean up and get some coffee in us and check in on Tobes. Yeah?” 

With a bated chuckle, Daichi nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“You sit tight, I’ll go fetch us some towels.” He slid out of the bed, a slender blur of pale skin and black cotton shorts.

\------

The heat of the water filled the small space, the spray bouncing off the tiles, running down the shower walls in racing rivulets. The feel of Suga’s hair beneath his adept fingers, the tips gently massaging shampoo into that gorgeous gray scalp. The invigorating scent of mint and citrus wafted upward, a smell he had come to associate with his gorgeous boyfriend. 

Showering together was something intimate, though not innately sexual. Maybe a time would come where it would be, but for now, he was simply reveling in the way the water clung to porcelain skin, the closeness, the sweet innocence that just came from washing his hair. He was humming with happiness, seemingly so satisfied with the ministrations. God, Daichi could do this forever, stay here, just like this. 

“Your turn,” Suga commented once he felt as though his hair had been thoroughly washed and rinsed, Daichi paying entirely too much attention to the way the soap meandered down his lean, strong back until the white foam gathered at the swell of his ass. 

_ Platonic. Shower. Daichi. Sawamura. _

He wasn’t even able to scold himself in a complete sentence, rather, just the choppy reminder to  _ behave _ . 

As Suga turned, Daichi’s gaze shot upwards, staring at the showerhead and not any other type of head because  _ platonic shower.  _ The beefy brunette turned as well, feeling relieved (and mildly brokenhearted) to finally have something to look at that wasn’t Suga’s body wet and lathered with soap. 

With that sweet tenor voice, the nurse began to hum something cheery and sweet as his own hands set to work. Like manna from heaven, the touch on his neck felt so good. With the way they woke up, he hadn’t even had time to consider that he would be somewhat hungover and more than a little sore from dancing. He was athletic and worked out regularly, sure, but keeping up with Suga at the club was much more difficult than he anticipated. The blonde was a free spirit and so full of life, and Daichi wouldn’t change him for the world.

Concentrated touches worked higher, nimble fingers working through dark chocolate locks. All over, he felt as though his body were melting, as though he were only molding clay left to the talents of some sort of artisan potter. Even more so than finding release last night, he felt the burdens and worries he had carried around washing away, rinsing down the metallic circle drain beneath their feet. Their conversation this morning had been cleansing, absolving them both of the things they found taxing, breaking barriers that held them back. 

There was more to say, just not today. They shared so much that Daichi’s heart already felt so full, his admiration for who his boyfriend was almost left him overwhelmed. He didn’t know what he had done in this lifetime, or any previous lifetimes, to deserve such a wonderful man, as well as an incredible son, a best friend who doubled as a brother, and lastly, to be raised by such a lovely human. Truly, he hadn’t the faintest clue. 

“You’re falling asleep,” the blonde chuckled, placing a tender kiss to the wet flesh on his shoulder, his lips cool where the water was warm. 

“‘M’not,” he slurred his words, eyes feeling heavy suddenly. Damn, Suga was  _ way  _ too good at this, the massage moving from his scalp to his neck and shoulders. Fuck, he spent way too many hours at the office slumped over a computer desk and not enough hours getting rubbed down by the world’s perfect combination of angel and devil, while encased in the body of a terribly gorgeous man.

“You are,” he countered with another giggle, following it up with a peppering of more kisses, lightly nipping at the tender flesh. The scrape of his teeth was provocative, a good tactic to pull him from the fog of sleep. “Let’s go get some coffee and call Tobes, huh?”

To that, Daichi nodded in agreement, an affirmative sound leaving this throat since he lacked the capacity to form actual words, brain too fogged over, and not just from the steam.

“And after that, why don’t we go pick up your brother and maybe even his date, and see if they want to take Tobes to the science center?”

To that, Daichi turned around, eyebrows high on his head. “You wanna take us to the science center?”

“Have you been?” The brunette shook his head. “Then how about a family date?”

A huge grin split the handsome dad’s face in two, and he leaned forward to capture his lover’s lips. “A family date,” he whispered, the smile evident even in his tone of voice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I know not a lot happened, but after the last chapter, I thought I'd share with y'all a softer pallet cleanser. More family fun and ~exploring~ and sweet stuff is on the way. I just hope y'all really like this chapter. Sorry it's not as long, but I hope you like it anyway. 
> 
> Something kind of personal has left me feeling really down today, and a special thanks to MadamPresident for listening to me. And for y'all for reading this and leaving me so much love. It means more than I could ever begin to explain. When times are tough, you special humans really come in on the clutch, so thank you, seriously, from the bottom of my heart. Love y'all.
> 
> Next time: family date, making plans for Thanksgiving, Tooru freaks out


	24. Family Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I just wanted to say two things REAL quick! 
> 
> 1.) if you haven't read the KuroKen side stories yet, please hop over to chapter 2 in the side stories and check it out!! It's not super long, but it takes place between the Dirty Thirty chapter and this one. So please go over there real quick and read it!
> 
> 2.) I tested positive for COVID-19 and I have been pretty sick, so I apologize in advance if this chapter is lack-luster. I also know it's a bit shorter. Anyway, I hope you guys like it anyway. I know I promised Oikawa freaking out, but I will have to save it for next chapter. It'll be worth the wait.
> 
> Okay, that's it. Happy reading!

“...and then, we ate the cake! And it was really good. And Mrs. Hinata said we could bake whenever I come over. Shoyou loves strawberries, they’re his favorite, and Natsu really likes the color pink, so the frosting was good for everyone.”

Tobio’s chatter had been basically non-stop since they picked up the little boy from his friend’s house, his blue eyes practically sparkling and his speech more animated than Daichi had ever heard it before. The smile on his face was wide and sincere, and the young dad couldn’t help but wonder if this was what true happiness was: Suga’s hand curled with his, resting over the console, Tobio detailing the ins and outs of his first real sleepover, the three of them on their way for a family outing. 

_ My heart might actually explode. _

Sensing Tobio’s story was winding down, Daichi glanced up in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of that sweet smile. “It sounds like you had an awesome time, bud.”

“It was so good!” he beamed. “Did you have fun with Uncle Roo and Nurse Suga?”

Coyly, Daichi turned to his boyfriend. “We had an excellent time.”

To that, the blonde giggled. “We sure did! Tobio, did you know your dad knows how to dance?”

Wide-eyed, he shook his head. “No way!”

“Yes, way!” Suga gripped his hand a bit harder and smiled a bit wider. “I think it must run in your blood.”

Scandalized, the little boy scoffed. “I am a better dancer than daddy.”

The brunette couldn’t contain the laughter as it bubbled up from his chest. “You know what, I think that’s fair.”

It was at that moment, they pulled into their destination: Science City. The center was located in an old train station that had been converted about twenty years prior, according to Suga, the Union Station serving now as home to many museums and educational resources. For an early Saturday afternoon, it didn’t look terribly packed, but Daichi could tell the place was fairly large. It was a white brick structure with a trio of huge, half-moon windows all along the front.

“Did you send Tetsurou the address?” the nurse inquired as they pulled into a stall. It was cute to see him dressed down, wearing jeans and Toms and a soft, black pullover. Daichi liked this outfit on him, almost more than scrubs or those skin-tight jeans he wore last night. Above all else, he wanted his boyfriend to just be comfortable. He didn’t need to go out of his way to try to impress, because Daichi was already enamored beyond words. Simply by being there was the young dad moved. 

“Yep, and he’s on his way with Kenma.”

From the back seat, Tobio unclipped his seatbelt and leaned forward, obviously quite eager to get inside. “Uncle Roo is coming, too?!” The excitable little squeak in his voice was just too adorable. 

“Yep, so let’s go inside and get our tickets, and he’ll be here before we know it.”

Like a lightning bolt, Tobio exited the car, shutting the back door a little too hard (in Daichi’s totally-not-overly-strict-dad opinion). But like a good boy, he knew to wait for his father, practically jumping up and down next to the trunk of the vehicle as Daichi and Suga climbed out. 

Out of habit, Daichi reached out his hand, offering it to his son. And in a motion that pulled wickedly at his heart, as though second nature, Tobio latched onto Koushi’s hand as well, the little boy stuck between his dad and his school nurse. 

_ Will he want to be Tobio’s other dad someday?  _ Daichi couldn’t help but wonder as they walked, Suga giggling along to something Tobio was telling him about dinosaurs.  _ God knows I want him to be. _

///

“Uncle Roo!” 

Suga watched with a smile on his face as the little boy ran to his uncle, the tall man kneeling with open arms to embrace his nephew. There was a blissful expression on his face as his arms enclosed around Tobio, pulling him into an enormous bear hug. As usual, his black mop of hair was messy and rearranged, despite probably having brushed it. From behind him, Suga spied a familiar face.

“Hey Kenma,” Daichi greeted cordially, offering a small wave. The bleach blonde waved back, his long hair tied back in a low bun. Suga couldn’t help but think he looked absolutely adorable in his dark wash jeans and an oversized green sweatshirt. It was then that he noticed that Kenma had little gauges, black ones in each ear. They weren’t large by any means, but they certainly suited him.

“Tobes, you remember meeting Kenma, don’t you?” Kuroo asked, pulling away from the hug, but still capturing the boy’s full attention with his gaze. His large hands were square on the little boy’s shoulders, his grin never faltering. 

“Yep! From IHOP!” Tobio’s gaze shifted and he looked up at his uncle’s date. “Did you make it past the swamp level on Zombie Wars?”

To that, Kenma smiled softly. “I did, finally. But I am working on getting past the boss at the underground laboratory.”

“Oh-oh? A laboratory?” Kuroo’s catlike eyes bounced between his nephew and his date. “That sounds right up my alley!” 

“Speaking of, this whole place is up your alley,” Daichi interjected good-naturedly, patting his brother on the shoulder. “Here, we got your tickets.”

“You didn’t have to--” Kuroo and Kenma tried to protest at the same time, but the young dad waved them away. 

“It’s a family date,” he explained, winking over his shoulder at Suga, the action nearly sending him into cardiac arrest. In his large hand, he held up five slips of paper. The blonde couldn’t help but think that his boyfriend looked so handsome like this, clearly more in his element now than he was last night. He was wearing the same jeans from the bar (Suga threw them in the washer before they had taken a shower) and a hoodie that the blonde may or may not have ‘stolen’ from his boyfriend a few weeks prior. But the most appealing sight of all was watching Daichi just be a dad. It was quite obvious nothing brought him more joy than that.

As they made their way to the entrance and the person at the booth marked their tickets, he watched Daichi - every moment, every smile, every soft word. Suga was the one who had first dropped the words ‘family date’ so casually in the shower only a few hours ago, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the real deal, that he was becoming a part of something more, bigger. In some regards, he and Kenma were on the outside, Daichi and Kuroo being raised like brothers, the little boy sandwiched between them, acting as the light of their world. What he felt in his chest wasn’t jealousy, though. Nothing of that sort. Rather, it was something warmer, comforting. Ever since college, he had been excommunicated from his biological family, his mother and father disowning him based on his sexuality. The only family he had known for the better part of ten years existed in Hajime and Tooru. 

Maybe, just maybe, his family was multiplying. 

As they crossed through the threshold, entering the main center, Daichi looked back over his shoulder, motioning for Suga and Kenma to follow. It had been many years since Suga had come to the science center, opting to help chaperone a school field trip back when Tooru was teaching fifth grade. The venue was just as lively and magical as he remembered.

With wide, cobalt eyes, Tobio regarded the massive entryway. To be fair, even for an adult, it was quite the sight to behold. Suspended from the ceiling was a giant bi-plane, bright orange with a large white propellor on the front. It hung over a replica of three dinosaurs, one t-rex, one stegosaurus, and one velociraptor. Fake foliage had been planted around their feet, including large ferns and miniature palm trees. Around either side of the dino display were a series of doors and stairs, all leading to different, smaller displays. The open view of the second floor hinted at a planetarium and as well as a banner for the traveling superhero exhibit. Natural lighting poured in from the massive skylights above them, painting the whole front area in a warm glow. 

“Daddy!” Tobio squealed in delight, pulling on his father’s sleeve. “Daddy, look! There are dinosaurs!”

The expression on Daichi’s face was timeless, perfect, serene. The love he carried for his son radiated off his whole being like pure sunshine, uneclipsed or filtered by passing clouds. There was a purity to it, the exact way a parent should love their child. It was blatantly obvious that there was nothing in the world Tobio could ever do to lose his father’s love and adoration. As Tobio latched onto his dad’s pinky, holding the small appendage in a death grip, dragging him closer to the dinosaurs, Suga felt a surge in his stomach. 

“What are you waiting for?” a voice asked suddenly in his ear, snapping him from his reverie. He turned his head to spot Kuroo just a few inches from his face, the black-haired man keeping a hand on his slender shoulder. 

“Pardon?” Suga asked. He had heard the question but didn’t really process it.

“What are you waiting for?” he repeated with that smug smirk of his. They hadn’t known each other for long, but Suga had already gathered that it was a signature expression of his. To his right, the bedhead was holding hands with Kenma. Both men were staring over at him with those golden, feline eyes, nearly a matching set. It was almost spooky how cat-like they were. “Go catch up to them.”

A flush took to Suga’s face, he could feel it, the warmth sprawling up his neck and cheeks. “I--”

But his protest died in his throat as Daichi whipped his head around, just a few feet away, standing at the base of the animatronic t-rex. When he caught Suga’s eye, the young dad tilted his head, using it as a means to signal ‘come here’. And just like he had so many times before, he held out his hand, palm up. 

The man was a furnace; a walking, breathing vessel of warmth. Whether it was curling into his chest at night or being tucked under his arm at a football game, he was there - close, comfortable. But it was his hands that were the most soothing of all, capable of bringing about such feelings of home, of belonging, of love.

With his own hand outstretched, Suga walked to him, their fingers curling together when they finally met. 

“Do you want to go see the planets with us, Nurse Suga?” Tobio asked, a beautiful grin splitting his boyish face in two. 

It was with unbridled joy he replied, “I would absolutely love to.”

///

“Right here, daddy, look! We can take photos in this booth and there will be planets that show up behind us!”

They were standing in front of an old-school picture booth, just like those ones he used to go into the mall with Kuroo and Yui when they were barely teenagers. Flash a few peace signs, stick out your tongue, maybe flip off the camera in the last frame (though that pose belonged solely to Kuroo), it was always a lot of fun. Somewhere, in Mama Sawamura’s house, there was probably an old Nike shoe box filled with film strips from the ‘good ole days’. It was nostalgic just looking at the machine. Daichi assumed they had been mostly done away with since everyone and their pet dogs had cell phones and could take photos wherever. But there was just  _ something  _ about the black curtain that you could slide back only to sit in a tiny booth with your favorite people and then patiently wait for your printouts a few minutes later. 

“Do you want to take a photo, sweetheart?” Daichi inquired, though he knew it was a pointless question. The stars in his son's eyes, much like the ones they had seen all along the hallway leading to the space exhibit, were sparkling, telling a story.

“Duh!” he teased with a big smile. 

Kuroo and Kenma were lagging behind, which was fine. Kenma was soft-spoken, quiet. However, from what Daichi had observed, he opened up to Kuroo. They carried on conversations, the shorter man’s golden eyes watching with sincere interest as his taller counterpart pointed out various things in the exhibits, inserting his own knowledge here or there. It wasn’t about showing off or anything of the sort. Ever since they were very young, Tetsu’s affinity for science was palpable, eager to just grow and discover. Sure, he had gone to college to become a chemist, but there wasn’t a damn thing in the subject that didn’t peak his interest. It was touching, truly, the way Kenma indulged him, engaged him with genuine excitement. Learning about science was just another key element of learning about Kuroo himself. 

“Who do you want in the photo?” Daichi asked as he flipped open his wallet in search of a ten-dollar bill, Suga coming up right behind him.

“All of us,” he explained, clamoring into the little booth, a determined look on his face. 

From beside Daichi, Suga paid his boyfriend a wayward side-eye. “Umm,” he lowered his voice, his pretty eyes shining even in the low light, “do you think we’ll all fit in there?” 

Four grown men and a kid? Why not.

“Kuroo, Kenma,” the young dad hollered over, waving at the duo. “You guys wanna be in our space picture?” 

It was a feat, surely, as Daichi and Kuroo opted to slide in first, Suga and Kenma positioning themselves on their prospective date’s laps, Tobio perched up on both blond’s knees. Yes, it was a tight fit, to say the least, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was endearing, the way they all just fit together, puzzle pieces coming together. Perhaps it was the simple things in life, like cramming into a photo booth with your favorite people in the world, to make you realize how absolutely amazing your life is. 

“I can’t wait to tell everyone how we got kicked out of the science center on our first time here,” Daichi chuckled, laughing gently into the back of Suga’s sweatshirt. 

“I mean, isn’t this pretty par for the course?” Kuroo teased, jabbing his brother with one of those damn sharp, pointy elbows. 

“Do you think they’ll really kick us out?” Suga asked through a giggle, pressing further into his lover’s chest. 

With a smarmy wink, Kuroo put those fears to rest. “Of course not, we’re too much fun.”

“Are we ready?” Kenma asked quietly, hand on the button. Tobio had selected their backgrounds, and they would have four separate shots. 

_ How absolutely ridiculous do we look?  _ Daichi asked himself, completely amused at what was unfolding, viewing each of them with butterflies in his chest.

“Hit it, Kitten!” Kuroo instructed from beneath his date, squeezing his hip with his free hand. With a nod and a less-than-subtle blush, Kenma pushed the big green button to start.

The first countdown began and Tobio gave the order: ‘say cheese!’ All five grinned, even Kenma, though his wasn’t nearly as broad as the other four, but still just as genuine. After the flash, there was little time to spare as the countdown began again. 

“Funny face!” Tobio told the group, opting to stick out his tongue. Suga puffed out his cheeks, Daichi crossed his eyes, Kuroo touched his tongue to his nose, and Kenma held up little ‘cat ears’ using peace signs on either side of his head. 

For the third photo, Kuroo leaned down and kissed Tobio on the cheek, making the boy giggle, as well as everyone else in the booth. Daichi wasn’t sure what that photo looked like as far as their facial expressions, but he knew they had to be ones of sheer joy. His son’s laugh was a contagious thing, worthy of being bottled and sold. The fact that he could giggle so freely, here in the presence of his growing family, was truly a sign that things were going to be okay, that this was right, that Daichi hadn’t made a mistake by uprooting their lives. Another Mama Sawamura proverb was always, ‘home is where you make it’. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that those words were so very true.

“Last one!” Tobio told them with a squeal of delight. Daichi turned to Kuroo and mouthed a set of instructions, to which his brother nodded, a sly smirk on his face. Once the screen reached the two-second count, one of the young dad’s hands flew up to cover Tobio’s eyes as he leaned down and planted a kiss square on his boyfriend’s mouth. Kuroo, in turn, gave a gentle kiss to the top of his partner’s head.

For a brief moment of bliss, Suga kissed back, lips warm and waiting. It was chaste and airy, but never did it lack emotion or feeling. When they pulled away, they shared a look, nearly stealing all the oxygen from Daichi’s lungs. Everything that the blonde did was beautiful, but it was perhaps this expression that Daichi would catalog away forever.

Over the past 24 hours, he had seen and heard so much from his boyfriend, his lover, Koushi Sugawara. So many signs pointed, eluded to the fact that they were falling in love together, that it wasn’t one-sided. However,  _ this  _ look, those warm eyes soft, even in the harsh fluorescent glow of the photo booth light, lips gently parted, gray eyebrows softly furrowed, cheeks holding onto to a pink dusting -- well, maybe Suga was already in love, too, just like Daichi.

“Daddy!” Tobio whined playfully as he pawed at his father’s hand, prying it away from his face where his large fingers still covered Tobio’s eyes. “Daddy let go so we can go see the printout!”

From next to them, Kuroo coughed and winked, and even Kenma hid a shy smile behind his hand.  _ Oh shit _ , he realized then,  _ maybe it’s not just me who sees it. _

As they unfiled from the photo booth, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of passing museum patrons, Daichi found he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. Not when reality was this perfect.

///

“Nothing like science center nachos,” Kuroo announced over his plastic little try, artificial cheese on one end and golden yellow tortilla chips on the other. They had already been at the museum for several hours when the tall man declared a snack break. Daichi had agreed, citing that it would be good for Tobio to eat something.

From next to him, the school nurse chuckled. “You know, I have the food pyramid diagram at school in my office, and it does not include nachos.” 

Kuroo rolled his golden eyes. “Yeah, well it should.”

“Oh, it absolutely should,” Suga agreed, dipping his own chip into the bright yellow cheese sauce.

“Thanks for the hot dog, daddy!” Tobio exclaimed the moment before he bit into his ketchup-covered snack.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Daichi offered, mussing his son’s hair.

“Mama Sawamura loves nachos, bacon, and all things fried,” Tetsu explained from across the table. He was speaking mostly to Koushi, but he wanted Kenma to listen, too. After everything that had happened the past several days, Kuroo found himself feeling a whole barrage of emotions. Yes, he was excited for his own second chance, for growing closer to Kenma, for his new job and making the move, a fact of which he still hadn’t shared with his brother, still needing time. It hadn’t sunk in and still, it felt as though he were floating through a dream.

Turning thirty, landing his dream job in Kansas City, getting to move and to be close to his family again, getting to spend time with an amazing guy who really understood him. It was perfect, to say the least. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to come along to sully this moment. Normally, Kuroo wasn’t the pessimistic type, but when it came to his own happiness, he couldn’t help but think that way. 

The question that hit the heaviest was the one that had already been reassured of him. His biggest concern was of course with Mama Sawamura. Would Mama be okay by herself at home now that he had accepted the job and would be moving to KC? Tetsu never really acknowledged Daichi’s dad, Reo Sawamura, as anything other than, well, Daichi's dad. How an absolute patron saint of a woman could have married such a hardened, bigotted man, he would never understand. Yes, he treated her well, for the most part, and provided for their family, but still. Kuroo always believed that she deserved better out of a husband, though out of respect for the woman, he never voiced it. It wasn’t his place. Still, it was because of this that he worried so much about leaving. With both of her sons and her grandson gone, what would she do?

“Your mom sounds amazing,” Suga gushed, propping his cheek up on his palm, turning toward Daichi.

The dark-haired dad nodded. “Oh, she’s the absolute best. She’s a bit crazy, sometimes. But that woman has so much love to give.”

“Grandma is the best!” Tobio added through another vicious bite of his hotdog, grinning despite the little blot of ketchup on his lip. “I miss her so much.”

“How is mom?” Daichi asked then, turning his full attention to his brother. “Have you talked to dad lately?”

_ She’s great, only you know, holding me together as I make the decision to leave her because I’m a total piece of shit.  _ He paused, and took a deep breath, trying to pass it off as taking a sip of Coke.  _ Stop that, Tetsu. Mom wants you to come here. Stop it, this is a good thing.  _

“She’s good, I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but she’s been wanting to take a floral arranging class. You know how she’s been with flowers since the dawn of time.” It was true, Mama Sawamura loved flowers and had been doing arrangements for the better part of ten years just as a hobby. From Yui’s wedding flowers to the ones she had at the altar the day of the funeral, Mama Sawamura did them all herself. Reo had called it a waste of time and money, but since becoming an empty-nester, it was obvious how much it was weighing on her.

“Why wouldn’t she want you to tell me?”

Kuroo shrugged. “You know how she is, she wants to pay for the class herself and do it all on her own, and if she tells you, you’ll just book it for her like the good son you are.”

To that, Daichi scoffed. “You say that as though you aren’t the same exact way.”

In mock offense, Kuroo held up a hand. “Hey, you know what, I already booked the class for her once and she told me ‘no’, point-blank.”

“So what’d you do with the class ticket, then?” Kenma asked softly, speaking up for the first time since they sat in the cafeteria.

With a proud grin, Kuroo puffed his chest. “You’re looking at a graduate of the September floral arranging class. I logged twenty classroom hours and now, I can work as an assistant to a florist.”

“Wow, that’s actually really impressive. Good job, Kuroo!” It was Suga who offered up his congratulations first, his eyes bright and almost sparkly.

With a soft smile that was all too easy to read, at least as far as the bedhead was concerned, Daichi offered his own words, too. “Mom is so stubborn,” he said with a little huff before sticking a pretzel in his mouth. It was clear he was frustrated with his mom, but that wasn’t anything new. And as far as being stubborn went, if anyone picked up on the matriarch’s bull-headedness, it was Daichi. Those two were one in the same.

From underneath the table, Kenma’s hand found Kuroo’s, and the gesture slightly startled him. It wasn’t unwelcome, the exact opposite, in fact. It was just that for the first time all day, the petite blonde had initiated the first move. “I like that you’re a mama’s boy,” the cat-like creature commented, leaning into his date a little as to not let his voice carry.

The attempt was fruitless, however, as Suga caught wind, too. “I’m a sucker for a mama’s boy myself,” the nurse chuckled, reaching out to thread his fingers through the dark hair at the nape of Daichi’s neck. 

“Is grandma coming to visit for Thanksgiving?” Tobio asked, blue eyes bright and wide. “I really miss her.”

“No, she won’t come for Thanksgiving. But she is coming for your birthday and Christmas,” Daichi assured his son with a soft pat on his arm. “So we can look forward to seeing her in about a month.”

“What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving then?” Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder. This one would be his last Thanksgiving in San Diego with Reo and Aki. Then at Christmas, he would make his official move to KC, and start his new life here. 

“Oh, well, it’s my turn to host,” Suga explained, wiping his face with a napkin. “The Iwaizumis and I alternate hosting the holiday dinner, and this year, it’s my turn. So I invited Daichi and Tobio over.”

Kuroo smiled. “Sounds like it’s going to be a great holiday season, then. Then I’ll be back with his folks for Christmas. Oh,” he added, reaching across the table to pat his brother on the head, “and don’t forget Daichi’s birthday is New Year’s Eve.”

This news seemed to shock Suga, as his gray brows nearly disappeared into his hairline. “Your birthday is New Year’s Eve?” he asked, eyes wide.

Sheepishly, his brother coughed into his hand. “Yep, it’ll be my turn to turn thirty.”

“Well, thank you for this very helpful information, Tetsurou.” The blonde winked at him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist (or pharmaceutical chemist) to figure out that Suga was up to something. He could almost see smoke coming out of the nurse’s ears with how the wheels were turning his brain.

“Oh,” he offered with a tiny bow, earning him a chuckle from Tobio, “any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and all of your kind comments and kudos! If I am slow to respond or comment back, I'm so sorry. I've just been really run down. If you haven't yet, and still want to read other works by me, I posted a really fun UshiOi one shot and of course, I have my BokuAka sugar daddy fic this a WIP.
> 
> Thank you for all of your wonderful words! It means so much to me. I hope to bring you another update soon, so long as I can get to feeling better. Know you guys are always on my mind regardless!
> 
> Shoutout to four amazing friends who have checked on me and kept me socially sane throughout my illness thus far: adka2333, MadamPresident2032, bbyblake, and umicrunch. Y'all are the real MVPs, and I can't say thank you enough. Love you all!!


	25. Rivers & Roads (Thanksgiving Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! It's me, I'm back! Thank you sooo much for all of the kind get well wishes. I am feeling much better and I am already back at work. I still can't taste anything, which sucks, and here I just wrote a chapter about Thanksgiving food.
> 
> I am gonna cut it straight to y'all - I wrote this chapter in like, 5 hours. I didn't feel much up to writing while I was sick and the opening scene of this chapter should have gone at the end of the last chapter BUT please forgive me, I blame the Rona. 
> 
> **BEFORE YOU CONTINUE!!** Please check out this [*incredible* fan art](https://clintbartoon.tumblr.com/post/641934432752828416/who-do-you-want-in-the-photo-daichi-asked-as-he) of the family date from last chapter. It is SO freaking cute!! Please, leave clintbartoon some love either over on Tumblr or in the comments below, it is SO well-deserved!! Thank you so much, my friend!! 
> 
> A song takes place in this chapter and as always, a huge shout-out to Mrs. Kelce for all the help with choosing the perfect selection. You'll know when to play it, but queue the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MmW3hF-iKg8). It's one of my all-time favorites.

The percolating of the coffee pot was overly loud in the otherwise quiet house, the hum of the machine waking Daichi up more than his alarm had. As the brown liquid began to fill his ceramic mug, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mornin’, babe,” Kuroo greeted as he walked into the kitchen, the cat-like man stretching out his arms over his head. He punctuated it all with a quiet yawn and a sleepy pat at his skinny stomach.

“Good morning,” Daichi replied to his brother, turning his eyes back to the Kuerig.

“I told you that you didn’t have to get up with me, dude. It’s like, 5 a.m.”

To that, Daichi waved his hand dismissively. Since Kuroo’s flight was so early in the morning, he was unable to take his best friend to the airport. Instead, he had to show him off at the house so the resident Californian could load up the rental car and return it to drop off before getting on his plane. Yet again, his trip had seemed entirely too short altogether, and though the brunette knew he would be back at Christmas to celebrate, it still seemed like too far away. Couldn’t Tetsu just stay forever? He knew it was selfish to ask, so he bit his tongue as he grabbed the mug and handed it behind him.

“You even made me coffee?” A dark eyebrow shot high above a golden eye, helping to ask the question.

“Yeah, of course, I did,” Daichi mumbled, rubbing at his face, trying to wake himself up. “Drink it and be grateful.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched as his best friend’s expression took on a watery smile as he stared down at the mug. It was a stupid novelty one Daichi had kept at his house ever since Tobio was just a baby, and Kuroo spent more time sleeping over than he did at his own place. The cup was a gift, something small Daichi had picked up for him one day at the supermarket. On the front were the words ‘ _ I Use This Mug Periodically _ ’ and below the text was the image of none other than the periodic table of elements. Everything about it was all the things Kuroo loved: science, dad jokes, and a container to hold his favorite beverage. Despite how much he played himself up, at the end of the day, he was just a big ole soft nerd. 

“You still have this?” Kuroo asked, voice almost whisper quiet, watching Daichi closely as he moved to grab a second cup from the cabinet.

“Tch,” the young dad laughed, starting the machine again, “of course I do. It’s your favorite mug.”

Kuroo was quiet for a moment, almost sober as he ran his finger carefully around the rim. He had yet to take a drink, seemingly mesmerized by the ancient artifact of their friendship. “It’s been a while since I’ve drunk out of it,” Kuroo murmured. The soft lighting coming from the fixture above the sink gave the tall man a warm glow, as if from the inside out. A sort of sleepy smile crossed his lips, the longer he stared at the cup. “You know, it always reminds me of the early days.”

“Yeah?” Daichi asked, not taking his eyes off his brother, his dearest friend. Even though his own beverage was long brewed, he stayed rooted in place.

“Yeah.” A chuckle left him then, light-hearted but still laden with just a touch of sadness. “Man, I thought we’d never get Tobio to sleep at night sometimes. For such a quiet boy now, he sure had a set of lungs then.”

Daichi laughed at the memory, too. When it was happening, it was hell. The whole world was, Yui nearing the end of her life, work getting all the more difficult, the guilt weighing on his chest like a ten-ton elephant. But now, all that was left to do was smile: smile at a time where they found each other, took care of Tobio. Through all of the shit and the muck and the mire, they had one another. Had the first years of Tobio’s life been a television show, Kuroo always said it would have been named ‘Two Idiots and a Baby’. Daichi couldn’t help but agree that it was quite a fitting title. Hell, it still applied, though the baby was only getting bigger by the day.

“I thought he was gonna be a singer or something for sure.” The young dad leaned up against the cabinet behind him before bringing his own cup to his lips. The smell of the mocha latte blend was delightful, adding the right amount of warmth to their conversation.

“Yeah, but he’s gonna be a dancer now, right?” Daichi nodded. “That’s really cool. I think he’ll have fun with that. Did you find classes?”

“Yeah, they start at the YMCA in the spring, after the new year. He’ll be seven by then. Tooru knows the coach really well, too.”

“Hard to believe,” he breathed with a sigh. “He gets bigger all the time.”

“Right?” That was the understatement of the year. Even in the few months since they moved to Kansas City, Tobio had already grown several inches and gone up a whole shoe size. It was difficult to keep him in the same clothes, Suga even explaining to Daichi after he returned from Chicago that the little boy’s pajamas were a wee bit too small. There must be MiracleGro in the water.

“Dai?” The brunette raised his eyes to meet Kuroo’s gaze, the slender man with one arm folded across his chest, the other propping up his coffee. “I am really happy for you.”

A small smile crept across his features then. “Thanks, Tetsu. I’m super happy, too.” 

“Koushi is a good guy, isn’t he?” 

What else could he do other than nod in agreement? “Yeah, I honestly think he’s one of the best.”

With a smarmy smirk and a teasing laugh, he recounted, “okay, so what the hell is he doing with you?”

“Shut up,” Daichi chastised with a roll of umber eyes. 

“Something happened on Friday night, didn’t it?” His lips were lingering over the brim of the mug, but the ceramic did little to swallow his words. That gold, piercing gaze was searching, Daichi could feel him practically scouring and dissecting, like one of those gross formaldehyde frogs in freshman bio.

“It did.” He tried as much as possible to keep his tone cool and collected, giving nothing away. However, there was no governing the quaking in his heart when he looked back on the moment of two nights ago. With how the weekend went, he and Kuroo hadn’t had a chance to discuss what had happened between him and Suga, let alone hear about his night at Kenma’s. Between the science center on Saturday, followed up with a dinner out made up of just the three of them, and then Kuroo and Tobio building a blanket fort in the living room for a ‘sleepover’, they hadn’t had the opportunity to speak one-on-one. Besides, nothing interrupted special Uncle Roo / Tobes time, the duo curled up, watching movies and playing checkers and eating an ungodly amount of Cheetos. And now here it was, Sunday morning, so early that the sun had yet to rise. 

“Are you gonna share with the class?” Kuroo teased, wiggling his dark brows. “Or is show and tell in order?”

“Oh my god,” Daichi groaned, attempting to keep his voice quiet as to not disturb Tobio, who was still fast asleep in the living room. Granted, he was curled up inside the safety of his fleece palisade and he slept like the dead (wonder where he picked up that trait?), but still. It was way too early for his little boy to be awake. “Please stop.”

“You don’t have to kiss and tell,” Kuroo assured, tone suddenly just a little more serious, “but I just wanted to check on you. Are you doing okay? Holding up alright?”

In the otherwise cool room, Daichi felt his cheeks warm, and not just from the hot beverage clutched like a safety net in his hands. Over and over again in his head, Daichi had replayed that night and subsequent morning. So much had changed, grown, between them in the span of those 12 hours, and he was still trying to completely wrap his brain around it all. 

“Yeah, I am,” he replied finally. Kuroo held out his free hand in the offer of a hug, and Daichi took it, taking the few steps across the tile to join his brother. One long, lean arm curled around Daichi’s shoulders, the taller man pulling him into a side embrace. “I feel like…” he struggled for the word, but at the same, he didn’t. He knew which one was adequate deep down, he was just still a little afraid that it wouldn’t suffice. “Myself,” he whispered finally, resting his head on Kuroo’s shoulder. 

The black-haired man chuckled, the smile evident in his voice as he spoke. “I am so glad to hear that.” He leaned over just a little and gave a kiss to the top of his brother’s head. Normally, Daichi would chastise him for making him feel so short, but he didn’t this time. It was too sweet of a gesture. “You deserve nothing but happiness, ya know?” Kuroo whispered into his dark chocolate hair before resting his cheek on the crown of his brother’s head. “You deserve to feel like yourself and be with people who bring that out of you. I am sure you’re talking about your sexuality in regards to Friday night--” Daichi did nothing to refute this “--but any guy would have worked for that. Like that hot blonde guy that time with the tongue ring. Suga must be someone really, truly special to make you feel like you’re yourself in every regard.”

Suga  _ was  _ special, no doubts about it. “I see a future with him,” he explained, snuggling further into his brother’s side. Back in California, they weren’t like this all the time, not really. Special occasions, big talks, when both of them were feeling touch-starved and needed a little physical affection to ground them. But since moving away from each other, Daichi was able to really value just what it meant to cuddle with his best friend. “Like, the whole thing, ya know? Marriage, building a life. I want that for him, and I want it for Tobio.”

Kuroo gave a thoughtful hum. “Marriage, hmm? After such a short time?” It wasn’t teasing nor was it meant to be judgemental. It was an honest question, Daichi knew.

“Not like, tomorrow. But some time, ya know?” 

The taller man nodded. “Yeah, I know. You guys are perfect together.” Kruoo let out a little sigh. “Is he ready to be another father figure in Tobio’s life?”

They hadn’t discussed it, not blatantly. It was on the (thankfully) dwindling list of topics they needed to tackle still. It was a big question though. Huge, bigger than just the two of them. Their whole relationship was never just about two people, it had always been about three.

But if Suga said ‘no’ for some reason, that would be the end of it. Tobio always came first, would always come first, not matter what. His mom, Yui, Kuroo, not even Suga would ever take the first place spot in his heart. If he asked Suga to do the same for Tobio, would he? Would he put Tobio’s needs ahead of Daichi’s, hell, ahead of his own, regardless of the circumstances? It was a lot to ask of a four-ish month relationship, but it was important in order to move forward. Perhaps the better question to ask would be  _ could  _ Suga do it, in time? It’s not like they were getting married tomorrow, nor had they even told each other ‘I love you’ yet, despite them both probably feeling it. (Daichi certainly was head over heels, but he didn’t want to speak for his boyfriend.) 

“I think so,” he answered finally. It was never a secret that Daichi had a kid. In fact, Suga met Tobio first. If the school nurse wasn’t interested in dating a single parent, then he wouldn’t have agreed to steak dinner all those months ago. “I can tell he loves Tobio, but you’re right. I need to ask.”

“I didn’t say you needed to ask.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Kuroo hummed again and took another long sip of his coffee. “Well, maybe you’re right, I suppose.” 

Needing more time to think that over, he moved on to a different topic. “How was your date with Kenna?”

With a point-blank look painted on his handsome face, Kuroo replied, “I am in love with him.”

“Are you dating?”

“Nah, not yet.”

“Did you kiss?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, so are guys like ‘talking’ or whatever?”

“Probably.”

Daichi brought his hand to his forehead with a dull ‘thud’. “Okay, but you’re in love with him?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“So are you just friends right now or…?” He wasn’t being flippant or rude. He just wanted a little clarity. 

“I dunno,” Kuroo replied honestly. “But I do know that I really care about him. And he’s a good person. And he brings balance to all these parts of myself that I struggle to maintain. It’s like he’s helping me achieve homeostasis just by existing in my life, ya know?”

Unable to keep the joke to himself, Daichi gave a shit-eating grin. “More like homo-stasis.”

Sputtering, Kuroo doubled over, a hyena laugh voiding his lungs. “Damn, that was a good one, Truffles!” 

The sound of his obnoxious laugh must have woken Tobio up because the next thing they heard was a soft, “daddy? Uncle Roo?” half-whispered from the other side of the room.

“I’ll go grab him,” Kuroo assured his brother. “I wanted to wake him before I said goodbye anyway.”

“Almost that time, huh?” Daichi asked.

“‘Fraid so, babe.”

\---------

He could do this. He could so totally do this.

After all, he was a proud, independent man. This was nothing. He wasn't gonna lose to some butterball scrub.

“Listen to me carefully, Tom. Can I call you Tom? Excellent. I’m gonna need you to do exactly as I say.”

The Thanksgiving turkey in the roasting pan did not reply and Koushi had yet to determine if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“You’re gonna go in that oven, you are going to stay moist and buttery, your skin is gonna get a shade of golden brown that even Kim Kardashian would be jealous of, and you’re gonna make my boyfriend fall even further in love with me. Do we have a deal?”

When met with silence, Suga was left with no choice. He wasn’t a negotiator, after all - he was a man of action. With a heavy sigh and the reminder to the star of the dinner that ‘you brought this on yourself’, he stuck the pan in the oven and let the glass door fall to a close with a heavy ‘thunk’. 

Alright, so with that going, he just needed to -  _ holy shit! _ His honey eyes locked onto the little green time on the stove. Okay, so he was running a  _ tiny  _ bit behind schedule. That was okay, right? Thanksgiving dinner was at 2 p.m. (for whatever godforsaken reason that was, he really never understood that logic. Is it lunch or is it dinner? Make up your mind, America!) which meant that he only had five hours until showtime. Yes, okay, so he cheated a little, and technically the turkey was pre-cooked and it just needed to be heated but  _ still _ . Normally, this was something he and Tooru tackled together, Hajime being a good sport and watching football and drinking whiskey and cutting the occasional onion.

But this year it was a solo show. Tooru and Hajime were instructed to bring wine and a dessert, and that was it. Suga had figured out that one of Daichi’s favorite things in the world was eating. If food was his boyfriend’s love language, Suga would become fluent in speaking it. So skilled, in fact, that maybe he could end up teaching classes or even possibly become an interpreter for the UN. It was flattering that even though Daichi was a pretty decent cook himself, he still appreciated Suga’s food so much.

So to say that the pressure was on for Thanksgiving was a bit of an understatement. He wanted everything perfect and orderly and above all else, delicious. 

He floated around the kitchen, the hum of some soulful acoustic folk music filling the relatively small kitchen. Small in comparison to Daichi’s or Tooru’s, but just the right size for him. Ever since moving into his little duplex, he had taken the time to truly make it a home for himself. The landlord had been ecstatic when Suga asked if he could make some changes and improvements, comping his materials in the form of reduced rent. The place had a solid foundation, of course, but painting the cabinets white, putting up a subway tile backsplash, stringing fairy lights over the little breakfast nook that doubled as a serving bar. A double-paned window was positioned above the sink, giving him a nice view of the quaint backyard, the Kansas City skyline visible just over the trees. Hanging from a silver hook was a spidering fern, tendrils hanging down so low that unless trimmed, they skidded across the top of the faucet. It was his little space, and he loved it.

He wasn’t sure how long he was fluttering away, singing along with his Spotify playlist, prepping the various dishes when the doorbell rang. It was like the chimes snapped him from a dream. With a quick swipe of his hands over his apron, he took a deep breath and made his way to the door. 

Without bothering to check the peephole (he knew his boyfriend would come over early), he swung open the front door and was greeted with two of his favorite faces on the planet.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Tobio exclaimed, throwing his free hand in the air and beaming a bright smile. The other hand was curled tightly in his father’s. The man had a bottle of wine tucked up under his armpit while he clutched onto a covered dish for dear life, their overnight duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Up until that moment, Suga had almost forgotten that the Sawamura Men were sleeping over. It would be the first time in their relationship that Tobio stayed over at his apartment as well.

Daichi looked so handsome in his dark wash jeans and Bordeaux-colored turtleneck, a fleece-lined corduroy jacket pulled taut across his broad shoulders. And Tobio looked precious too in his own jeans and a burnt orange button-down, wearing a black scarf and matching black athletic coat. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the nurse greeted in return, leaning in to welcome his boyfriend with a light kiss. “Here, let me help,” he reached out to take the pyrex dish. 

“Ah, thank you.” A faint blush took to his cheeks, and Suga could chalk it up to one reason: he was feeling a bit shy about kissing in front of Tobio still. The little boy didn’t seem to mind. Some children his age acted repulsed when their parents kissed, shaking their heads or giving a mirthful ‘ew!’. But not Tobio. And Suga couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he was just glad to see his dad happy. 

“Come on in, it’s freezing out there!” Suga held the door open while his guests stopped in the foyer, removing their coats, scarves, and boots. 

“I can’t believe how cold it is for November,” Daichi acknowledged with a little shiver. 

“Ah, just wait. Sometimes it dips into the negatives come January and February.” 

“Terrific,” the young dad said with an eye roll. 

“Will it snow soon, Nurse Suga?” 

“It very well should, sweetie. And then, we’ll get a snow day!” 

His twin cobalt orbs turned the size of saucers. “A snow day?!” he gasped, mouth falling into a surprised little ‘o’. 

From next to him, his dad chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Wouldn’t that be neat?”

“The best!” he nodded in agreement.

“What did you bring, Dai?” Suga asked, holding up the dish in his hand. The trio made their way over to the kitchen, Daichi depositing their bag on the sofa before joining his family, Tobio clambering up to sit in one of the tall bar stools. The seat gave him the perfect view of the action, all of the sights and smells of the traditional feast likely going to make the little boy hungry all the faster.

“Just my mom’s apple strudel,” he explained with a small wave of his hand, propping himself up against the counter after he set his wine bottle down. “She would publicly shame me on Facebook if she knew that I showed up to Thanksgiving without it.”

“Then I’m excited to try it. A Mama Sawamura original recipe?”

Daichi shrugged, but the little proud twinkle in his eye gave him away. “Yeah, something like that. I know Tooru and Hajime were bringing the dessert but…”

Suga laughed it off and waved his hand, “Daichi, listen to me carefully because if I have to repeat this to you more than once, I am going to question if we actually belong together.” 

A flash of concern passed over his handsome features before he gave a shaky, “uh, okay.”

“There never has been, nor will there ever be, too much dessert.” 

A smile split both Sawamura Men’s faces in two, and Suga felt his heart swell.

///

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Daichi asked for about the third time in the past hour, stationed at his spot at the bar top. From next to him, Tobio tapped away at his new Nintendo Switch. Apparently, the devious Uncle Roo thought it was cute to give away something called a ‘Pre-Christmas’ present, and it came in the form of a blue and red handheld system. Thankfully, the games were Daichi-approved, passing the screening round: nothing with blood, zombies, or guns. In fact, his son had taken an attachment to Pokemon, and he was a-okay with that.

“I’m sure, Dai, just keep on keeping me company.” His boyfriend’s brow was furrowed, concentrated on a recipe book propped up on the counter. From where he was sitting, it looked like some sort of homestyle mac’n’cheese recipe and the sight of it nearly made his mouth water. Already, the house was flooded with all of his favorite smells, and based on the glimpses he was afforded of the turkey through the occasional opening-and-closing of the oven, it was beautiful, too. 

“I can chop stuff?” he offered, demonstrating a slicing motion using his right hand, miming his left hand into a cutting board. “Or oh! I can peel potatoes?”

This seemed to have gotten the blonde’s attention, Suga casually throwing his gaze over to the 10-pound sack of potatoes on the counter, still in the plastic packaging. 

“Well…” he started, finally letting out a little sigh of defeat. “I suppose that would be okay.”

Giving a little arm pump in victory, Daichi rose from his spot and came around the counter. “Alright, so where do you want me?” 

“First,” Suga gave a little giggle, “go wash your hands. Then wash the potatoes and I’ll find you a vegetable peeler.”

Daichi, ever the obedient boy, gave a little salute before flipping on the hot tap water. Dutifully, he began to lather his hands in the rosewater and ivy soap. He loved that smell because it always reminded him of Suga.  _ He must use the hand creme, too.  _ Daichi tucked that note away in the back of his brain for later use. 

“Done!” In a child-like fashion, he held up his hands for presentation, a boyish grin on his face, seeking his boyfriend’s approval. “Now let me tackle those bad boys.”

“Alright, alright.” Suga rolled his honey eyes, but Daichi knew it was just teasing. One of the things Daichi really loved about the blonde was his stubbornness. He was bold and bull-headed in a way that was endearing, though at the same time, frustrating because all Daichi wanted to do was help. And yes, he refused to acknowledge how hypocritical that made him, though he liked to believe that he had improved somewhat over the years.

“You know how to wash them?” Suga asked, handing over the bag before going back to his own task.

“Soap and water?” At that moment, Daichi could have sworn he saw Suga’s soul leave his body.

“Soap? Daichi, c’mon, that’s--”

“Suga,” the taller man said softly, placing one hand on a slender shoulder, “I’m just teasing. I will run them under lukewarm water and rub them down with my hands. Promise.”

With a playful little smack to his forearm that was just a little too hard (seriously, did Suga not know his own strength?), Suga chuckled. “You better!”

“Don’t worry, I know that potatoes are serious business.” To really drive his point home, he gave up a coy wink, relishing in how red it turned Suga’s face. The blush touching his cheeks wasn’t just from the heat of the stove or the steam rolling off the boiling pot for the macaroni noodles. It was an innocent fluster, one that Daichi hoped he could bring to Suga’s face over and over again. Even if they were together ten years, twenty years, thirty, he prayed that he could always make Suga do that, and in return, the butterflies would fill his chest, just like they were now. 

“Alright, then hop to it.” It was Suga’s turn to wink, and for the heat to spread across Daichi’s high cheekbones instead. 

///

When Daichi had said that peeling potatoes was serious business, at first, Suga had thought his boyfriend was only joking. But there was something wildly sexy, almost to the very core of his marrow, in watching those large, strong hands wash and peel about twenty spuds. Granted, that was entirely too many potatoes for the five of them, but Suga had been too enthralled to care. Cooking was one of his life’s many loves, and now watching Daichi prep supper by his side was on that list.

“Wow, Dai, those look great!” the blonde acknowledged from over Daichi’s broad shoulder, the taller man slightly hunched over the countertop dicing away.

“Yeah?” he asked, tilting his head up. If there was one thing that Suga would come to associate with the feelings of love swelling in his heart, it would be warm, brown eyes, dark and soothing, like the wet earth after a summer rainstorm.

With a shy smile, he simply answered, “yeah.” 

“Nurse Suga?” Tobio called from his spot at the counter, handheld console lowered to the counter. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” 

“What kind of music is this?”

“Hmm? Oh, just a little folk music. Do you not like it? I can change it.”

To that offer, Tobio vehemently shook his head. “No way, I like it.”

“Me too,” Daichi piped up from his right. 

“You do?” He knew it was a bit of a niche music selection, but he couldn’t help himself. Suga was the type to listen to just about any genre, but something about folk and bluegrass held a special spot in his soul, especially when cooking. Perhaps it put a little bit of soul into the food.

“Totally.” With a quick glance up and then down, as though looking the nurse over, he gave a soft smile, “it suits you.”

Okay, now Suga’s face was  _ completely _ on fire and he felt like he was melting. His ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron was definitely getting a barrage of swipes from his overly-sweaty hands. Has he always had such sweaty hands? Or was it just yet another side-effect brought on by being in such close proximity to Daichi Sawamura? 

“Are you guys gonna dance?” The innocent expression on Tobio’s face, coupled with his wide, blue eyes and the gentle, curious tilt of his head was too much cuteness for Suga to handle.

“Dance?” The boy’s dad asked, lowering his ceramic chopping knife and raising a thick eyebrow.

“Yeah! I like this song, and last time, Nurse Suga said that you could dance, daddy. And I wanna see it for myself.”

It was one of the blonde’s favorite songs, a gentle strum of the guitar opening the piece, melodic yet warm. The singer’s voice was old-fashioned, as though born from the countryside and worn down by clove cigarettes and the rolling dust of the open fields. 

“Would you like to dance?” the young dad inquired, holding out his palm, bowing slightly, as though imitating Prince Charming from some sort of fairytale. 

With a shy perse of his lips, Suga put his hand in the much larger palm. “I would love to.” 

In a motion so fluid, like moving water, they began to dance. The song was slow, a tad bit slower than a kitchen dance song might typically be, but when Daichi pulled him into his chest, a sweet giggle lilted up into the air from the counter. Tobio smiled big, blue eyes pinched in the corners as he watched his father twirl the blonde around the tiny kitchen. 

With one hand folded around Suga’s and the other on the small of his back, Daichi dipped him. Somewhere behind them, a pot gurgled with boiling water and the refrigerator hummed along to the song, adding to the heartfelt melody. This particular move earned another resounding clap and praise from Tobio, an encouraging, “you go daddy!” falling from his lips.

As the song slowed and the bridge picked up, Daichi pulled him so close that their cheeks touched, the press of flesh warm and comforting and welcoming. Because he knew the song, Suga couldn’t contain the urge to lightly sing along, harmonizing with the alto woman on the track. Around him, Daichi relaxed, as though releasing a breath he had been holding. 

In the passing seconds, the song built back up, the duo crooning of rivers and roads, and all of the places they would cross just to be with the one they loved. It was a soft ballad, but a love story all the same. And as the refrain played on, even Tobio sang along, the simple words still very meaningful despite their repetition. A twirl, a final dip, and a sweet kiss landed on eager lips. 

In his chest, his heart hammered against his ribcage, but it wasn’t from the exertion brought on by dancing. No, it was from something else entirely. 

\--------

“Knock-knock!” 

Suga would know his best friend’s tenor anywhere. Just a little early and not actually knocking, as per usual. Leave it to Tooru to show up before the allotted time in an effort to see how he could make himself useful, despite the agreement they had made a few weeks prior.

“Come in!” the blonde called, hands occupied in the mixing of the deviled egg filling. 

“Oh, that ship already sailed,” Hajime joked as he appeared in the entryway of the kitchen.

“Mr. Iwaizumi! Mr. Hajime! Hi!” Tobio squeaked out, immediately setting down his game system in order to hop down and give the newest visitors a hug.

“‘Sup little buddy,” Hajime greeted, hugging back and giving Tobio a playful tousle of his hair.

“Hey, boss,” Daichi greeted with a playful jab at Hajime’s broad shoulder. The shorter husband had opted for an emerald pullover and black jeans while his taller counterpart wore fitted skinny jeans and a gray scoop-neck sweater. 

“Smells good in here, you guys have been busy,” Hajime acknowledged with a nod of his head, gesturing to the growing pile of completed dishes. The turkey would be done in about 45 minutes and the biggest challenge was just keeping everything warm until it was time to eat.

“Yeah, but it’s been a lot of fun.” The expression Daichi wore when he said that sentence was one of genuine joy, and Suga couldn’t help but believe him..

“Oh, I bet. So, what can we do?” the green-eyed man asked, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater, showing off his toned forearms. To his left, Suga didn’t miss the way Daichi’s eyes admired the strong, tanned muscle.  _ Typical _ , he thought with a smile,  _ another victim has succumbed to the thirst trap brought on by those god damn arms.  _

“Well, right now, I’m just using the piping bag to fill deviled eggs, but I think--”

“That’s the perfect task for Iwa-chan! He is great at filling stuff.” Tooru looked like a man on a mission as he tore the plastic bag from his best friend’s hands and thrust it at his husband. “I need to have a little meeting with Suga-chan.”

“Oh?” the nurse asked, still stunned, staring down at his now-empty hands.

“It’s about school stuff and I don’t want to bore the boys.”

“School stuff? What--?” but his question was cut off as he was whisked away, pulled from the heated room, unable to even give so much as a single set of instructions. Like a whirlwind, he was dragged through his own apartment, all the way back into his own bedroom. The door shut with a slam that was just a bit too heavy.

A rock sank in Suga’s chest. What could this be about? Because there was no way it was simply about  _ school _ .

“Tooru, what’s wrong?” 

Before his eyes, Tooru’s carefully orchestrated mask cracked, crumbling like porcelain thrown to concrete. Tears, hot and wet and viciously violent came running down his beautiful face, meeting at his pointed chin. Out of sheer instinct and love for his oldest friend, he threw his arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. However, this seemed to bring the tall brunette no comfort.

“Tooru, you have to talk to me. Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

With a heavy breath, the young educator pulled away and pawed at his face in an attempt to clear it, but it was too late. He would probably need to wash it and press a cold compress to his eyes to keep the puffiness down. 

“N-no,” he answered with a shaky breath. “I have to show you something, though.”

“What is it?” A thousand thoughts raced through his brain and he struggled to formulate different hypotheses. 

Slowly, with trembling hands, Tooru reached into his back pocket, producing his wallet. It was the black Hugo Boss billfold that Hajime had gifted him for his promotion. He reached inside and handed over a business card. 

Suga regarded it for a moment, then took it between his index finger and thumb. “What is this?” Slowly, he turned the card over and read the words printed there:

_ Keiji Akaashi _ _  
_ _ Akaashi & Associates _ __  
_ Specializing in Family Law  _ _  
_ __ (913)-777-1234

All the blonde could do was ask again, “Tooru, what is this? What is this card from?”

Tooru swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat. His eyes found the floor as a nervous hand raked through his hair. 

“I--I found it on the desk today, in the office,” he squeezed his eyes shut, as though preparing to say the most bizarre and heartbreaking words he would ever utter.

“And?” the blonde prompted, the card feeling as though it were burning a hole in his hand, stomach in ropes.

“And--” he let out a quick breath, “I think Hajime is going to file for divorce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? The sound of y'all sharpening your pitchforks? *nervous laughter*
> 
> Ha but seriously, did you guys ever watch that one episode of Spongebob? You know that classic episode where Spongebob accidentally eats a pie with a bomb in it from Squidward and Mr. Krabs goes, "the boy cries you a sweater of tears, and you kill him". Well, here you guys wished me to get better and then I blew you up with a pie bomb. Sorry about that.
> 
> Special thanks to bbyblake for sharing her favorite thanksgiving food and for adka2333 for giving me the marvelous idea of the kitchen dancing scene!! You all are the bomb.com 
> 
> That's it, that's all my ramblings. Please yell at me below but like, gently, because I still can't taste food and I can't comfort myself with ice cream.
> 
> Next time: dinner is served


	26. Thankful (Thanksgiving Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I plan to update this so soon? No. I didn't. Is there going to be a Thanksgiving Part III: The Turkey Empire Strikes back? 
> 
> Quite possibly.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> P.s. I posted a Thanksgiving chapter on Valentine’s Day because I love you all. ❤

“Did your brother make it back to California okay?” Hajime asked, making himself useful as he filled the deviled eggs, as instructed. Daichi stirred the gravy still on the stovetop. He wasn’t sure  _ exactly _ what to do after Tooru and Suga disappeared down the hall about ten minutes ago, so he just figured keeping things warm and stirred was a good place to start.

“Yeah, he landed back on Sunday afternoon and went back to work for a few days. The lab is closed for the holiday though,” Daichi explained. He stared down into the pot of mashed potatoes and began to question himself. Did he put in enough salt and pepper? If everyone put gravy on top, would it even matter?

“Are we gonna video call him and grandma?” Tobio stared up at his dad with those big, blue eyes, hands still latched around his Nintendo Switch. 

“We sure will, babe. Kuroo is busy helping grandma in the kitchen right now, too, but he’ll text us when it’s okay to call.”

“Is grandpa with them?” While Daichi’s dad tried to make it a habit to come in for major holidays, he wasn’t entirely sure if he would show up for this Thanksgiving. While Reo liked to believe he was a mature and functional adult, he had been against Daichi going to Kansas City in the first place, especially since Tobio was obviously going with him. Ever since Daichi’s coming out, Reo had made it a point to comment on anything and everything regarding Daichi’s parenting style, and it was usually very negative. 

_ ‘Why does he cry so much?’  _

_ ‘Dad, he’s a baby. He’s just upset.’ _

_ ‘Tell him to stop, he’s two years old. Nobody likes a whiny boy.’ _

Reo was not an overly affectionate man, making him the polar opposite of Daichi’s mother. Handshakes replaced hugs and ‘I love you’ was never spoken, not once. Not even when Yui died did Reo offer his son any kind of comfort. He only stood in the room, awkward, as though it pained him to have to be around someone so emotionally distressed.

Yeah, Reo Sawamura was built for a life on the boat, far away from his feelings and people.

“I think he might be. Did you want to say hello to him, too?” 

As an answer, Tobio only shrugged, bringing his eyes back to his gaming device. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about his grandpa anymore, and not that Daichi could blame him. While his father was never directly rude to his son, Tobio was a smart enough boy to feel tension when it happened and to not be a fan of the way his grandfather spoke to others. Kuroo was also the subject of his father’s criticism and unkind comments, which was upsetting to the young child. 

“Do you think everything is okay?” Hajime asked after a few moments of silence, piercing green eyes glancing in the direction that his husband and Suga had disappeared down. They had been gone for nearly twenty minutes now, and Tooru’s reasoning for excusing themselves seemed shotty at best. 

“I think so, yeah. Was Tooru okay before you guys came over?” 

Hajime looked down at the stove, still absentmindedly squeezing at the piping bag despite it being almost empty. There was something about his features that really caught Daichi off-guard. All week, he had noticed his boss spending more time on the phone in his office with the door closed, which wasn’t something he normally did. The CFO’s open-door policy welcomed just about anyone to stop by, no need to be screened or make an appointment. There had been a few times that the green-eyed man had even gone out of the office for lunch meetings, though on his Outlook calendar, it was marked off as ‘personal’. 

In light of that and today’s current events, Daichi felt concerned. Over the past months, the young dad had come to see Hajime as more than just his boss. After their basketball game turned heart-to-heart, it was pretty clear that they were also friends. And as he and Suga grew closer and closer, their trio was becoming a foursome, much like how he and Kuroo had absorbed Yui all those years ago. It was a natural transition. 

“Yeah,” Hajime replied finally. It was a single-word answered, almost half-whispered. Clearing his throat, he stood up a little straighter, speaking a little louder. “Everything is fine.” 

Daichi couldn’t help but wonder if his friend was simply trying to convince himself of something. 

\------

_ What?! _

Suga wanted to yell that question, but he felt too stunned, as though his feet were cemented to the ground. Tooru stood in front of him, pawing at the fresh, wet tears that wouldn’t stop rolling down his face. Hajime filing for divorce? Was there anything more absurd than that? Suga racked his brain.  _ A family attorney could mean… _

“Tooru,” the blonde spoke carefully, trying to keep his voice gentle, yet firm. “Are you sure… that this is a divorce attorney?”

The brunette sobbed harder then, fists curled against hazel eyes. His shoulders were shaking, folding in on himself, trying to make himself smaller. “I don’t know, I-- Suga, I can’t lose Hajime. He’s my world-- He--I--” his speech spiraled into almost incoherent babbling, his emotions overflowing and unmanageable in his current state. There would be no reasoning with him until calmed down a little.

“Here, come have a seat,” Suga instructed, grabbing one of Tooru’s wrists, trying to get him to stop touching his face. Odds were high he had put on light makeup before coming over and he would be so upset if he smudged his mascara. With a little bounce, Tooru collapsed down on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his slight weight. “I’ll go get you some tissues.”

Feeling guilty for leaving his best friend, even for the briefest moment, he kept his task quick. He collected the tissues and a wet washcloth from the en suite bathroom. When he reemerged, Tooru was still sobbing, though now he was actually folded in the half, palms acting as a barrier between his face and his jean-clad knees. Oh, how Suga’s heart hurt at what he was witnessing.

The blonde lowered himself to the bed, sitting right next to Tooru. Carefully, he handed over the box of Kleenex, prompting the brunette to sit up a little and take one. He dabbed at his eyes and blew his nose. The pretty hazel orbs were reddened almost to the point that they were bloodshot. “Here, hold this to your cheeks and cool down,” Suga explained, exchanging the used tissue for the damp washcloth. Touching a dirty Kleenex was nothing when you considered the school nurse’s line of work - trust him. 

Thankfully, Tooru listened, cradling his head in an open palm, pressing the soothing material to his splotchy and red face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regulate his breathing. Every once in a while, he would let out a little hiccuping sob. When he alternated his hands and switched the cloth to a different cheek, he finally peeled his eyelids open and stole a sideways glance at Suga.

“Are you feeling a little better?” the blonde asked, rubbing soothing circles into his best friend’s back. The tension present there was still extremely palpable. 

With a weak nod, he let out a little sigh. “I guess.” 

Suga was not so convinced. Tooru could act, but once that mask came off, he couldn’t manage to put it back on. 

“So you found this business card…” he prompted slowly, trying to get to the bottom of what was going on. With their Thanksgiving dinner waiting on them, they needed to try to resolve this without alerting their partners, and especially Tobio, that something was amiss. Clearly, Tooru brought them in here to talk for a reason.

The young principal sat up a little straighter at that question, curling the damp cloth into his fists and lowering it to his lap. If water was getting on his jeans, he didn’t seem to even notice. “I was in our home office organizing the bookshelf,” his story began, “and I found a piece of mail I used for a bookmark. Like, an old water bill or something. I don’t know, anyway. I went into the desk, which I know that it’s technically Hajime’s desk and I usually work on my laptop and sit at the window seat but--” he sighed heavily, deflating again. “I just wanted to file the old bill away and when I opened the top drawer to look for a pen, it was there. Like, front and center.”

“Okay, and then what happened?”

“We were getting ready to head here and I couldn’t let him know I saw it! So I just shoved it in my wallet and we left.”

“Did you say anything to him?”

Tooru balked at the suggestion. “Say something to him?! Like what, Suga-chan?” He made his tone lilted and mocking and animated, “‘oh, B-T-Dub, Iwa-chan, are you planning on filing for divorce? I found your little business card so I was just curious.’ Give me a fucking break.” He sounded so angry, so hurt, though Suga knew it wasn’t directed at him.

“Okay, so let’s look at this logically,” he suggested, bringing his hand up to squeeze reassuringly at Tooru’s shoulder. “A family attorney doesn’t usually mean divorce attorney right? Not unless you have kids?” To that, the brunette shrugged but didn’t seem convinced. “Aren’t just regular divorce attorneys usually like, you know,  _ divorce  _ attorneys? Did you Google this guy?”

Tooru shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “I… I am too afraid to. Koushi, I couldn’t even look at Hajime in the fucking car on the way over here even though he kept trying to start up a conversation about god knows what. I basically gave him the cold shoulder! But in my defense, all week he’s acted like he's had a lot on his mind and he comes to bed and just he tosses and turns and I can tell he’s not really present, and when I ask about it, he brushes it off and uses work as an excuse!” His tone took on a frantic quality as he added, “I just know something is up!”

“It’s only been a week since he’s started acting like this?” Suga furrowed his eyebrows. “Tooru, you guys were fine at Kuroo’s party, and that’s been barely two weeks ago. Are you sure it’s not work-related? He could--” 

“I also heard him on the phone,” Tooru interrupted, voice sounding so pained and sharp. He wasn’t crying anymore, just glaring down at his feet, staring unseeing. “Last night. He was talking to Issei. I didn’t hear all of it, but I heard him say he didn’t know how he was going to talk to me about it, and that he was afraid of it not working out and he was scared of breaking my heart.”

Suga brushed those chestnut locks away from Tooru’s tear-stained, yet beautiful face. “Why didn’t you call me last night? Do you know what they were talking about?”

Tooru shook his head, sucking in a quick and painful breath. “I-- I don’t know, Koushi. He was in the home office and I was walking by to get a drink from the kitchen. I had already told him I was going to bed so he didn’t know I was in the hall. At first, I just thought, ‘oh, I’m taking this whole conversation out of context or maybe I’m fucking dreaming’. I figured it was nothing and that he would talk to me about it later, so I just did my best to ignore it.” He scoffed. “Now I know exactly what it was about.” He swallowed a lump in his throat, eyes turning watery again. “And I’m so embarrassed, Koushi. I fought, I advocated for my right to marry someone I love and we’ve only been just married in July. Five months? Five fucking months is all I could manage before I scared him the fuck away?” 

He let out a laugh that was dry and humorless and cracked, splintering like dry wood left out in the sun. “After all these years, he finally decided he can’t deal with me and I don’t blame him. I’m such a worthless mess.” 

Before he could continue to berate himself, Suga latched onto both of his best friend’s shoulders, spinning him so that they were facing one another. They needed direct eye contact for what Suga was prepared to say next. 

“Tooru Iwaizumi, you listen to me, and listen to me carefully.” Typically, he wouldn’t use such a stern voice, but god damn it, Tooru was  _ spiraling,  _ and right now was not the time for tiptoeing or beating around the bush. Cut to the chase - that was the key. “I have watched you two love each other for ten years now. Through all of the ups and downs, the in-betweens, you were always so in love. I have seen you rip each other’s throats out over the last ice cream bar in the freezer in college and I have seen you cry over that bouquet of roses that Hajime bought you when you were sick with strep your first year of teaching. I have seen every last bit of it.” 

A pregnant pause filled the room as Suga took a moment to gather his next thoughts. “I don’t know what’s going on, or what that card means, or what his conversation with Issei was about. But you know that Hajime is a private person, and he needs to process internally before he brings something to you. It has always been that way. There isn’t anything in this world that could pry you guys apart, of that much I’m sure. So you need to trust your husband. Whatever’s going on, he  _ will  _ talk to you when he’s ready, I know he will.”

Suga held his gaze, unrelenting. Hazel and honey met each other, buoyant and emotional. Tooru sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, batting his wet, dark lashes in an attempt to dry them. When he spoke, his words were soft and almost hoarse. “I’m just scared, Suga-chan.” 

That was never an easy thing for Tooru to admit, Koushi knew that very well. If there was anything his best friend was chock-full of, it was pride. He had a fearless, determined pride at the epicenter of his personality. That much was evident when he nearly went feral at Gavin all those years ago, protecting the ones he loved with reckless abandon. Or how he was proudly out even in high school, facing any sort of hate or homophobia with a thick skin and his head held high. Courageous, brave, stubborn, prideful, bull-headed, unashamed to be who he was and unapologetically himself. Nothing scared him or slowed him down or made him fearful.

But to lose Hajime...? While Koushi never considered it an option, he could understand why Tooru would be afraid of that. Granted, they may not have the ten years under the belt like his best friends did, but after meeting Daichi, he was beginning to understand what it was like to love someone you never wanted to lose. 

Suga removed his grip from Tooru’s face only to hold Tooru’s hands, damp washcloth and all. “Tooru, look me in the eye and tell me that you actually believe that Hajime would ever leave you.”

“I--” He started to falter, but Suga squeezed his hands, leveling him with a commanding look. “I don’t.” The response was weak, lackluster, holding no real conviction. 

“You don’t what?” Suga needed to hear him say it.

“I… don’t believe that.” It was slow, intentional speech, as though he were truly considering those words. 

“Babe, have you ever considered, that just maybe, that lawyer, that  _ family  _ lawyer,” he emphasized the word, “was for ad--”

“ _ Don’t. _ ” Tooru broke his hands free and shook his head. “Please don’t,” he sobbed, “get my hopes up.” 

Suga shook his head. “So you would rather spend your time anticipating a divorce than consider that Hajime might be researching starting a family with you?” It sounded absurd when spoken aloud, but for Tooru, the logic was likely solid. He wouldn’t consider his best friend a pessimistic person, not at all. But the idea of wanting something for so long, and hoping for it to be true after gathering circumstantial evidence only to find out it was never going to happen at all… well, that pain would be entirely too real. 

Tooru fell back onto the bed, the blue comforter shifting beneath his movement. The backs of his hands found his eyes, concealing his face. “Do you actually think he wants to start a family with me?” he questioned through a raspy and strained throat.

Suga laid down next to him, positioning himself on his side so he could pull Tooru into his chest. “I think,” he said softly, slowly carding his nimble fingers through those perfectly styled chestnut locks, “he would be foolish not to. And if there is one thing I know about Hajime, it’s that he’s anything but foolish.”

A sniffle rose from the lump curled into Suga, an almost considerate noise. “You think so?” he whispered. To that, the blonde could only release a sigh and pull his friend in even closer.

“Of course, Tooru.”

“I’m sorry I’m ruining Thanksgiving,” he mumbled into Suga’s sweater, long fingers curling into the apron still hanging from the blonde’s neck. 

“You’re not ruining Thanksgiving. Just promise me that you’ll stop freaking out and wait for your husband to open up to you?”

A whiny sound left Tooru’s throat before he finally gave a tiny nod of agreement. “Fine,” he murmured reluctantly. 

“When you get home tonight, put that business card back and give Hajime a little space. Maybe adoption wasn’t on the forefront of his mind before, but it’s a helluva lot more likely than a divorce.” He squeezed Tooru and leaned back a little, looking down at his best friend’s condition. “Does that sound like a deal?” 

Just as Tooru nodded the affirmative, a soft knock fell upon the bedroom. Suga sat up as Tooru stiffened, though he immediately relaxed once he heard Daichi’s voice, probably just thankful it wasn’t his spouse, not mentally prepared yet to face him. 

///

“Uh, Suga. I’m so sorry to interrupt you guys,” Daichi cleared his throat, “but I think the timer for the turkey is going off and I just wanted to make sure we have done everything right.”

It was more than obvious how much time and effort his boyfriend had poured into the whole meal. The last thing Daichi would want was to fuck it up by simply taking out the main dish too early. He would never forgive himself. 

“Just a moment!” Suga called from behind his bedroom door. Faint whispers were all that he could make out, not that he was trying to eavesdrop. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t at all concerned. Almost half an hour had passed since the two men disappeared down the hallway and Hajime was getting more than antsy.

A few heartbeats passed before the gray-haired beauty was stepping out of the door, closing it behind him with a soft click. “What’s up, buttercup?” he asked casually, blowing a lock of his bangs out his face with a quick puff of air.

Daichi blushed at how cute the little gesture was. “Oh, umm, do you want to go check the turkey with me?” He pawed at the back of his neck. “I don’t trust myself to take over your cooking.”

“Yes, of course. Let’s go!” Suga snatched his hand and began walking back toward the main part of the apartment, but Daichi remained in place, trying to keep Suga there for just a moment longer.

“Wait, Koushi… is, uh,” he gave his boyfriend a long look, trying to read his expression. The nurse was turned back around, facing him, gray brows furrowed slightly and warm eyes tinged with concern. Something was going on, and while it probably wasn’t Daichi’s business, he couldn’t help but be a bit worried. He cleared his throat a little. “Is everything alright?”

An airy laugh left his boyfriend then, light and care-free. Daichi had sensed some tension when Suga emerged from his room, but it seemed to be melting away rather quickly. “Yes, I think so. If I had to guess, it’s just a…” he mauled over the word, “misunderstanding, of sorts.” He leaned in then, catching the young dad completely by surprise with the tender yet somehow sensual kiss that was placed on his lips. “Let’s go finish cooking, huh?” With a wink, they carried on, Daichi too dazed to think of another question to ask. 

///

“Alright, well, what you do next is spread the whipped cream over the top layer.”

“Just like this?” Tobio asked, glancing up at Hajime, blue eyes sharp but questioning. He was taking his task quite seriously.

“That’s right!” the dark-haired man gave a rare smile, and Tooru thought his heart was going to fall out of his chest. He had gone unnoticed thus far, peering around the doorframe of the hallway. Much to his surprise, his husband was standing next to the bar top counter, Tobio sitting on his knees in one of the stools, a rubber spatula in hand. 

For their dish, the Iwaizumis had brought over Hajime’s favorite dessert, which was a red velvet poke cake. They had baked the cake at the house that morning, but opted on adding the whipped cream right before supper, as to keep the cake from getting soggy or the cream getting too warm in the car. 

“I did this at Shouyou’s house,” the little boy explained, continuing to spread the whipped cream around. “I like baking a lot.” 

Hajime’s grin grew twice the size as before, and Tooru felt himself falling even more in love.  _ Could Suga be right?  _ Getting his hopes up was dangerous because, in his heart, Tooru had already resolved that being with Hajime meant more than being a parent. And should his partner never want to adopt children, well, then he would be okay with that. Due to his job, he would have plenty of opportunities to give love to children and be there for them, even if he wasn’t as their father.

But this sight was truly one to behold, and that risky little flame stirring in his gut told him that something good could be on the horizon. That maybe it was okay to hope and want and pray. Because someday soon, possibly, maybe, he and Hajime would become fathers to a child. And the scene unfolding before him would be a new normal. Just maybe, their house would soon be blessed with the pitter-patter of tiny feet, graced with the musical giggle of a baby, and filled with the awe-inspiring and overwhelming joy of parenthood.

“I like baking, too.” This admission caught Tobio’s attention, and the blue-eyed boy stared up at Hajime. 

“You do?”

“Absolutely! I love cooking breakfast food, too. I like all breakfast foods, but French toast is my favorite.”

Tobio nodded excitedly. Behind him, his dad and Suga fluttered around the dining room table, setting out the plates and cutlery, making small talk about the napkin rings Suga had found on sale at Pier One. Tooru didn’t pay much attention to them, though. His focus was solely on Hajime and Tobio.

“French toast is way better than waffles!” the brunette boy stated. His back was to Tooru now as he started to swivel in his chair. 

“ _ Way  _ better.” Hajime agreed.

“Oh, Tooru! Just in time!” The sound of his name startled him as his best friend caught his eye. “Are you feeling better? Did you get your contact back in your eye?”

Okay, so this was clearly some kind of cover story. “Uh,” he started, still a bit dumbfounded. “I am and I did, thank you, Suga-chan.” Koushi wasn’t the only one thespian in the group - he could act, too, after all. Doing his best to paint a prideful expression on his face, he stepped out of the hallway and into the main room. “How can I help?” 

He could feel the heat of Hajime’s green eyes on him. Not that the look he was giving his husband was angry or irritated. The opposite, in fact. Those emerald orbs were heavy with concern, asking the question ‘ _ are you alright? _ ’ To Tooru, all that did was further solidify Suga’s hypothesis: there was something Hajime was working through, and it certainly wasn’t regarding a divorce. He was unsure if he was ready to commit to the idea that Hajime had had a change of heart and now was considering a baby, however, he was willing to let go of his suspicions that they were separating.

Suga gave him a soft look and motioned him forward with his hand. “Why don’t you go and open that bottle of wine?”

After his best friend had vacated the bedroom to see to dinner, Tooru had washed his face, touched up his makeup with the little tube of foundation Suga kept in his medicine cabinet, and given himself a pep talk which included the mantra, ‘ _ you’ve fucking got this _ ’. With a coy wink and a quick smile, Tooru floated back toward the kitchen, suddenly feeling a bit lighter on his feet. He had the helium-charged sense of relief in his belly to thank for that as he bee-lined toward the bottle of Apothic Red sitting on the counter beside the fridge.

It was then that Hajime gently caught his bicep, grounding the taller man in place. They shared a look, and the fiery anxiety that was there before softened, almost dissipating in thin air.

‘Are you okay?’ Hajime mouthed, not even managing a whisper.

As a reply, Tooru leaned in and gave his lover a kiss on his cheek and spoke low, right in his ear, “much better now.”

///

“Before anyone can have dessert, we have to go around the room and say the one thing we’re thankful for.” Daichi had his phone out and propped up, ready to record the moment and send it to his mother. 

Dinner was  _ amazing _ . Nothing short of delicious. Tom, the hefty fellow, was more than worth the wait. Juicy, buttery, and full of flavor, which was absolutely the way a turkey should be. Even all of the sides, from the mashed potatoes and gravy, the steamed ears of garlic corn, the homemade mac’n’cheese, the green bean casserole, the deviled eggs -- all of it was absolutely perfect. Chef Gordon Ramsey wouldn’t call Suga an ‘idiot sandwich’, of that Daichi was damn sure. Even Tobio, who had never tried stuffing before and could sometimes be a picky eater, made a happy plate twice over. Everyone gushed about the taste and variety, and Suga beamed so proudly, sporting a blush that was more than just from the two glasses of red wine he had consumed.

“Why are you recording us, Dai-chan?” Tooru asked, wiping his face. The little rectangle table had accommodated them perfectly. The adults sat across from each other on the long sides, and Tobio was seated at the head, stationed between his father and Hajime. 

“Oh, well, it’s a tradition in my family,” he explained with a sheepish smile, stealing a sideways glance at his boyfriend. The gorgeous nurse just looked at him as though he were truly interested in whatever Daichi was about to say. That was one of the most incredible things about dating Suga - he was so wonderfully engaged in everything he and his son said and did. “My mom always has us go around the room and say what we are thankful for this year, and if we don’t, then we didn’t get dessert. And since this year is our first Thanksgiving apart in twenty-nine years, I thought it would be alright that I sent her our responses.”

“That’s a great idea!” Suga gushed, reaching over to squeeze one of Daichi’s thick thighs. The gesture made his face heat up but he did his best to brush off his flustered feelings. “I love little traditions like that.”

“Yeah! And every year grandma says she’s thankful for me!” Tobio beamed proudly at that declaration that the whole table chuckled. 

“So who goes first here?” Tooru asked. “I am ready for some poke cake.”

“Well, I guess I’ll start.” Daichi flipped the camera so it was in selfie mode before pressing record. He gave the screen a little wave. “Hey, mama! Happy Thanksgiving. I just wanted to record this so you can see that your tradition is alive and well.”

“Hi, grandma!!” Tobio exclaimed, doing his best to wave his little hand around and stick it into the frame, desperately wanting to be noticed.

Daichi tilted the camera a little bit so his son could smile into the lens. Tobio blew a kiss, and then the dad turned the camera back on himself. “So this year, I am thankful for a lot of things and I couldn’t narrow it down just to one.” He coughed a little, working up the nerve to say what was on his heart. 

“I am thankful for having moved here and met so many wonderful people,” he let his eyes scan the room. He really was thankful, and not just for Suga. For having such an incredible boss, befriending his boyfriend’s own best friend, for joining this family and in turn, expanding his own. “I am thankful for my awesome boss, for a principal who really took the time to get to know my son and make sure that he was properly taken care of as he adjusted…” he turned then and faced Suga. “And I’m thankful for meeting such a wonderful guy who makes me feel like I really belong here.” 

The nurse’s gaze almost looked watery as he leaned in to capture his boyfriend’s mouth in a sweet and tender kiss, both hands on either side of the brunette’s face. The smooch was caught on camera, and Daichi felt his neck flush at that, but he wouldn’t edit it out. He wasn’t worried about his mom seeing it, after all, she was his biggest supporter and had always been an ally. 

When their lips pulled apart, a hand navigated back down to rest on Daichi’s thigh, and he couldn’t help but think that that was perhaps his new favorite gesture. “But as always, I am most thankful for my biggest blessing of all. And that’s you, Tobio.” 

The black-haired boy grinned and squirmed in his chair as their eyes met. He didn’t do so well with undivided attention, but he didn’t seem to hate it now. Perhaps it was because he was adjusting so well and growing closer with everyone in the room.

“My turn?” Suga asked, pointing to himself with his free hand as Daichi turned his seat, flipping the camera to front-facing. The young dad nodded and then laughed as his boyfriend reached out to take a sip of his wine, clearly an attempt at some last-minute liquid courage.  _ Fucking cute. _ “Wow, okay. Hello there, Mrs. Sawamura. I’m Suga and I’m dating your son.”

“This sounds like an AA meeting,” Tooru remarked teasingly at his best friend’s stiff behavior.

“Just call her Mama Sawamura. She’ll like that,” Daichi reassured.

“Oh! Okay!” The reddened color taking over Suga’s pretty pale skin was equal parts amusing and alluring. “Mama Sawamura,” he started over, “this year, I am very thankful for a lot of things. I am thankful that my two best friends in the world got married and are  _ happily  _ in love.” The emphasis on the word ‘happily’ wasn’t lost on Daichi, and he couldn’t help but think perhaps that pertained to whatever event had occurred before dinner. “And I am thankful for my job, and that little Tobes got to come to our school this year. And of course, I’m thankful for meeting your son, who you raised to be an incredible and loving human being. Getting to know him and Tobio has been one of the best unexpected blessings of my life.”

Daichi’s self-control wavered a bit as a rush of unrelenting, unyielding sense of gratitude washed over him. So much had happened this year, almost like a snowball effect ever since Daichi accepted the transfer position back in June and began to pack up his life, sell his house, and take the ultimate leap, wild and blindfolded. Never did he imagine that once he plunged into the waters of the unknown that he would feel so whole and free, coming out on the other side cleansed and absolved. The guilt that had been tied around his ankle for the past six years wasn’t enough to drown him, and now, he knew that it never would be.

Daichi gave his boyfriend another kiss, this time, off-camera, though the device recorded the looks on Hajime’s and Tooru’s faces instead. Both men shared the same expression: complete adoration and respect. 

“Alright, my turn!” Tooru declared, forcing Daichi to turn his attention back to the task at hand. “I would just like to say that I am thankful for everyone in this room. I am thankful for Suga-chan’s friendship, and that Daichi and our sweet Tobes are in his life now, as well as ours.” He took a deep breath, and Hajime wrapped an arm around his shoulders, grounding him. An emotional sheen took to his hazel eyes, turning them a bit glassy. “And most of all, I am thankful for my Iwa-chan.”

Hajime reached out and brushed a lock of hair behind Tooru’s ear, fingers slowly ghosting over the shell. “I’m thankful that you’re my husband, Tooru.” The shorter spouse leaned in and pressed his lips to Tooru’s forehead, the young principal humming at the contact.

“Daddy, daddy, is it my turn now?!” Tobio was vibrating in place, eyes big and blue and wide as he clutched the lip of the table. He was practically shaking with anticipation. But, like the mild-mannered child he was, he was waiting his turn, though growing just a wee bit impatient with each passing minute.

“Anything else to add, Hajime?” Daichi asked for clarification. 

His boss shook his head. “Nothing that hasn’t already been said.” The young dad couldn’t say that he was all that surprised. Brevity was in Hajime’s nature, and he was a very private man, and Daichi respected that.

“Alright, you can go Tobio. What are you most thankful for?”

With all the sincerity and determination he could muster, he locked his eyes directly on his school nurse. “I am most thankful for Nurse Suga!”

At that statement, all four adults let out a gentle gasp, the words too stinking sweet to process. Daichi glanced at Suga right as the blonde brought a hand to press to his heart, a sign that was absolutely touched by the little boy’s words.

“And I’m not just saying that because I liked his stuffing, or because I want extra dessert,” he tacked on for good measure. “I am just really thankful that we moved to Kansas City and that I got to meet Mr. Iwaizumi and Mr. Hajime and Mr. Asahi and Mr. Noya, too. And I am thankful for Ms. Yachi at school. And for Shouyou being my best friend and for Mrs. Hinata. And for daddy and grandma and Uncle Roo and his friend Kenma.” He had spoken all of that so fast that he had to take a quick breath before he concluded with, “but I am seriously the most thankful for Nurse Suga because he makes my daddy so happy.”

At that moment, the man in the spotlight stood, rising from his seat to walk behind Daichi and throw his arms around the dark-haired child. As he kneeled, Suga pulled Tobio in tight to his chest, curling his fingers into the black locks at the child’s nape. 

“And I am so, so thankful for you, baby,” Suga whispered, placing a kiss right on Tobio’s cheek.

The boy giggled and leaned away. “I know, you already said that.” He rolled his eyes but the grin never left his face. “So can we have some dessert now?!” 

Once again, all of the adults in the room laughed, though Hajime also stood. “Sure thing, bud. Since you worked so hard to help me with the cake, why don’t you help me serve it?”

Tobio gave Suga one final squeeze before wriggling out of his chair. “Sure thing, Mr. Hajime!” 

“You can just call us Hajime and Tooru, if you like.”

Tobio threw a questioning glance back at his dad, making sure that was okay. Daichi had stopped recording a few moments ago, and he lowered his phone to the table with plans to text the video to his mom once the guests left. “Well, I think that’s okay, just make sure you address Tooru properly while you’re at school.”

With a thumbs-up, Tobio eagerly agreed. “You got it, dad. Let’s go, Hajime!” He grabbed the buff man’s pinky finger as they made their way back toward the kitchen, Tobio chattering on about how they always played card games and watched Charlie Brown after dessert, the CFO clearly enthralled by every word.

From across the table, Daichi didn’t miss the way that Tooru was observing the scene, fingertips pressed fondly to his lips, stare fixated but soft, clearly lost in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first of all, remember that same episode of Spongebob with the pie bomb and *spoiler alert 20 years later*, Spongebob didn't *actually* die? Okay, that's good. Also, my sense of taste came back today so wine helped write this chapter.
> 
> But on a serious note, THANK YOU!!! So much for all of the love and comments and wow. I am so blown away. Y'all really know how to make a gal feel loved. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but thank you. If I haven't replied to your comment yet, I am working on it, I promise! I never want to leave a comment unreturned. You guys seriously fucking touch my heart and I... I am just so happy. If I were seated at the table going around saying what I was most thankful for, I would say all of you, honest. 
> 
> Also, I hope you guys aren't mad I split this up into three parts. I like more frequent updates and with each chapter being about 6-7k, I didn't want a 20k chapter out of nowhere. I just wanted to keep the pacing consistent.
> 
> Anyway, please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought! 
> 
> A **HUGE** shout-out to Bbyblake for the 'what I am most thankful for' idea. Sister, you the MVP!!!!!
> 
> Next time, Thanksgiving Part Tres: pumpkin PJs, pumpkin pie, and pumpkin _spice_ *wiggles brows*


	27. Pumpkin Spice (Thanksgiving Part III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! I hope you are doing really well! Just as a fair warning, this chapter has a little ~spice. If you need to know specific tags, I have included them below. If you don't need to know or want to be surprised, keep scrolling! :) I have some notes at the bottom, please stop and read!
> 
> TAGS:  
> nipple play, frottage, mild dirty talk

“Okay, so who do I play as?”

Tobio scoffed and shook his head. “Whoever you want! But I like to play as Yoshi.”

Suga restrained a giggle as Hajime squinted at the screen, combing over the player options. To someone like the stoic brunette who never had a real affinity for video games, it was likely a difficult decision. Hajime and Tobio were sitting in front of Suga’s TV, the six-year-old’s Switch hooked up and ready to go, Mario Kart opened on the screen. The pair sat cross-legged on the floor and it was terribly endearing. 

From the kitchen, there were sounds of the dishes being done, his boyfriend’s warm, timbre laugh pairing well with Tooru’s bubbly one, the duo obviously bonding over their arduous task. Suga had been kicked out and told since he cooked, he didn’t have to clean. And Hajime, the poor soul, had been trying but was decidedly in the way in the small kitchen. Though Suga was willing to bet good money that his best friend was just over the moon about seeing his husband bond with the child in their midst.

Admittedly, if Tooru had ovaries, they would probably be exploding. 

“Hmm,” Hajime hummed after a few moments, treating choosing a character with all the calculated thoughtfulness of selecting Tooru’s engagement ring (Suga would know, he was there for that, too.) “I don’t know, buddy. Can you choose for me?”

“I think you should play as Bowser!” Tobio exclaimed, pointing up at the screen to the infamous Nintendo villain. 

“Isn’t he the bad guy?” Hajime asked, cocking a dark eyebrow. 

Tobio shrugged. “Yeah, but your hair is spiky and Bowser is spiky.”

The blonde really couldn’t restrain his laughter now as Hajime’s cheeks turned pink and he ducked his head. Once the character selection was finalized and their cars were customized (Hajime once again defaulting to Tobio’s advice on the matter), Tobio selected their tracks, and off they went. 

Blessedly, the little boy was sweet, directing Hajime through the buttons, what the power-up boxes could do, and how to make the most out of his boosters. Despite being dead last a time or two, Bowser was able to play catch up with a blue shell here and an invincibility star there. Tobio came out in first and Hajime finished a respectable fourth place. 

By the time the second map fired up, this time, a more complicated track at Luigi’s Haunted Mansion, a heavy palm touched his shoulder. Koushi startled a little at the unexpected contact having been too engrossed in the friendly match. Suga was perched in the corner of his sofa, a nearly-empty glass of wine balanced on his knee, slender fingers curled around the stem.

“Need a refill?” Daichi whispered in his ear, voice low and smooth. He smelled like an aromatic mixture of spiced whiskey and Suga’s all-natural lemon spray cleaner, the latter scent informing the school nurse that his boyfriend had not only done the dishes but also wiped down the counter and stove, too. Could anything be sexier than that?

“Hmm,” he hummed coyly, lifting his gaze to make direct eye contact with the brunette. As always, Daichi’s eyes were full of warmth, twin pools of rich mahogany. “Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Sawamura?” The teasing tone was made under the reassurance that Tobio couldn’t hear them, the little boy zeroed in on trying to hit an AI Princess Peach with a red shell while Hajime questioned why the ghosts were ‘such jerks’. 

Daichi’s face flushed, but the confidence in his stance didn’t waver. The sleeves of his sweater were pushed up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms and the gorgeous silver watched around his left wrist. He was bent slightly over the back of the sofa, face just inches from Suga’s. “I thought I already accomplished that with the dishes,” he winked, and the blonde felt as though he were going to melt right into the polyester material of his sofa. 

“You accomplished it the day you walked into my office in that suit,” he admitted, leaning up just a little to catch those perfect lips in a kiss that appeared chaste on the surface, but between them, was anything but. It was a bit heated, the wine in his veins making him already just a bit too warm. Though just being in Daichi’s presence, his aura so safe and pleasant, was perhaps the true culprit for the rise in his body temperature. 

“I’ll be quick” he promised as he pulled away, his boyfriend’s glass in his large hand. The expression on his face was laden with what Suga could only describe as love and affection, his heart feeling though it was coming undone at the seams. 

“Hurry back,” he called flirtatiously over his shoulder, taking just a moment to sneak a peek at Daichi’s perfect ass in those jeans. _I am a lucky man._

“Suga-chan, do contain your drool. You are in the presence of children.” Tooru’s playful scolding came out of nowhere, the lithe man practically materializing at the far end of the sofa. When did he get here? 

“One child, singular,” he corrected with a dramatic eye roll, sending a good-natured kick his best friend’s way. The sofa sat three people, and Suga’s bare (and aching) feet occupied the middle cushion. “And he’s too engrossed with your husband to notice.”

Tooru’s pretty eyes shifted to the sight in front of them. Hajime and Tobio were seated barely three feet away, the oak chest serving as a coffee table pushed to the side, but it was truly as though they were existing in their own little world. Hajime was clearly getting a hang of the game, as his steering was becoming more controlled. Next to him, Tobio chattered about his favorite characters, and how ‘ _daddy always plays as Luigi because Uncle Roo’s favorite color is red, so he plays as Mario’_. 

Okay, so maybe if he had ovaries, they would also be exploding. No shame in that. 

The lanky brunette looked satisfied at the sight, though his thumbnail had made its way into his pouty mouth. Clearly, Tooru was at war with himself, likely considering all that they had talked about in the bedroom prior to sitting down to dinner. Hopefully, Hajime’s expression of gratitude for his husband during Daichi’s tradition had done _something_ to curb the tall man’s fears. A divorce attorney was completely out of the question, as far as Suga was concerned. The light in Hajime’s eyes when he looked at his husband hadn't diminished. In fact, it seemed to have only brightened. 

Tooru didn't reply, just stayed fixed on Hajime’s unrefined movements, drifting around the curves, lacking the same practiced precision that Tobio had. He was clearly endeared by his spouse's interactions with the young boy, if the small smile pulling at his full lips were any indication. His own wine glass was perched between long, elegant fingers, feet tucked beneath him. 

“Here, baby,” Daichi greeted again, popping up over his shoulder. As he handed the now full glass over, he pressed a kiss to Suga’s forehead, the shorter man humming at the contact, allowing his eyes to slip close and really revel in the tender act of affection. What had he done before Daichi? They had only known each other for a handful of months, not even quite half a year, but it was hard to remember life before him. Maybe it was dramatic, though the hopeless romantic that lived inside Suga’s chest was telling him that this was real. That he was truly experiencing romantic love for the first time in his 29 years on the planet. 

And it was beautiful.

“Thank you,” the blonde murmured, eyes still closed, squeezing the glass with a little more force than necessary, his tipsy subconscious weaving toward wanting to squeeze that gorgeously thick bicep through the cashmere sleeve of his sweater instead of the cup in his hand. 

"Winning, sweetheart?" Daichi inquired toward his son as he came around the edge of the sofa. Suga pulled his feet in to accommodate the space for his boyfriend. 

“Yep, I’m beating Hajime! Watch me drift around this corner!” Tobio exclaimed, holding the controller out and leaning, as though that would actually improve his drift quality.

“You’re doing a good job, bud. Keep it up!” The beefy brunette encouraged as he settled into his newly assigned seat, throwing one toned arm across the backrest, leaning so he was boxing Suga in. The latter didn't mind at all. In fact, he stretched out his lean legs, settling his pale calves along Daichi’s robust, jean-clad thighs. Much to his pleasure, the young dad wrapped his massive hands around Suga’s ankles, thumb lightly rubbing the swell of his ankle bone.

"Do your feet hurt?" The little concern laden in his voice was so gentle. There was a tenderness to Daichi that was unmatched, and Suga had yet to determine if it was just his innate personality or if it was something that had come along after he became a parent.

"Miserably so," Suga replied theatrically, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, doing his best classical 'Damsel in Distress' persona. Daichi smiled as he began to take the pads of his thumbs, pressing delicately into the arch of his lover’s foot. A moan threatened to break through Suga’s lips at the careful ministrations, the gesture feeling just too divine. When was the last time someone gave the hardworking nurse an actual massage? 

"Ugh, get a room," Tooru huffed from the other side of the young dad. 

"Hush back there, Trashykawa. Like we're any better," Hajime groused over his shoulder right as he drove off Rainbow Road. There was an expletive on his tongue, Suga was sure of it, but his long-time friend was doing his best to refrain from any foul language in the presence of Tobio.

"You know, son," Daichi began, hands still at work, kneading Suga’s foot, "it was a bit cruel to stick him on Rainbow Road as a beginner." His tone was teasing and chastising, all in the same breath.

"But daddy," he countered with a little whine, blue eyes zeroed in on the screen, "it's my favorite level!"

Daichi scoffed at that. "No, it's not. It's Dry Dry Desert." 

"Well…." The little boy started, looking guilty.

"Hajime, after this round, hand me your controller." It was a demand. 

"Pardon?" The man's boss asked, confused. 

"Controller. I need to whoop my son's butt."

Finally, the level ended with Tobio in first and Hajime in dead last (he wound up way behind after sliding off the track one too many times). And the other three adults watched, amused, as Daichi picked out Luigi, decked out his car, and tackled Rainbow Road like a true pro, which was certainly no easy feat. He held back nothing as he defeated his son, the black-haired child pouting in embarrassment. 

By that point, Tooru had slid down onto the floor, curled up in his husband's lap, Hajime’s strong arms enclosed around that slender midsection. "Dai-chan you really had no mercy on our precious Tobio-chan!" 

" _Daddy!_ " whined the little boy miserably, slumping down against the ornate living room rug, sticking out his lower lip. "You didn't have to beat me that bad!"

"Part of being a parent is knowing when to put your kiddo in his place," he explained with a good-natured chuckle, turning his attention back toward his son. "What is the house rule for Mario Kart?" He raised his eyebrows in all seriousness. 

With a little grumble, Tobio sat up. "...never take beginners on Rainbow Road and no throwing the controller."

“Good boy,” Daichi praised, reaching down to muss his dark hair. “Now, who’s gonna challenge the champ?”

Hajime let out an irritated groan as Tooru’s hand shot violently in the air. “Oh, oh! Pick me, Hot Dad-chan! I want to be Rosalina!”

Suga smiled as the recognizable competitive glint lit up Tooru’s hazel eyes. This was going to be a long evening.

\-------

Mario Kart lasted for hours, not that anyone minded. It was a fun way to include everyone, Tobio teaching them all a trick here or there, though there was no denying that Daichi was the true master. Suga hadn’t played a video game like that in years, probably since that one Halo tournament in college that he was surprisingly good at, taking fourth out of twenty-six competitors. 

It was later in the evening when Daichi Facetimed his mother. Suga had offered a cordial wave, but his boyfriend quickly excused himself to the kitchen the moment the middle-aged, dark-haired woman said, ‘well, well, well, if it isn’t my beautiful future son-in-law?’ with his cheeks burning scarlet, clearly embarrassed by his mother’s antics.

After speaking with his grandmother, Tobio returned to the living room where curled up between Tooru and Hajime, the trio opting to switch off the game and turn on a classic movie instead - a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. Tobio seemed to love it, giggling at Snoopy - his favorite character, so he announced. 

It had been about fifteen minutes since Daichi had retreated for a little privacy, but Suga was a little alarmed when he could no longer hear anyone talking. Was he just playing on his phone in the kitchen? That seemed a bit out of character. 

Quietly, as to not disturb the three boys cuddled up on the rug, clearly absorbed into their program, Suga traced his boyfriend’s steps. The apartment wasn’t very large, but the slight space behind the partial wall allotted for just a bit of privacy. When he rounded the corner, the sight surprised him. Daichi was slumped over the breakfast bar, forehead pressed to the cool tile countertop.

“Dai?” Suga questioned. At the sound of his name, the brunette stood up quickly, attempting to school his features. He wasn’t quick enough, though, Suga caught the tell-tale, textbook look of sadness. His brows were slightly pinched and his eyes had a watery quality to them. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah-- uh, well--,” he stumbled over his words, pawing helplessly at the back of his neck. “--no, actually. I’m alright it’s just… my dad.”

A tug pulled at Suga’s heart - boy, was he familiar with _that_ song. “Your dad? Did he say something on the phone?”

Daichi sighed and slumped against the cabinet behind him, exhaling a shaky breath. “Yeah, he did. I don't know why I act like I'm surprised. He’s just kind of a fucking prick.” He let out a humorless laugh at that comment, folding his arms across his broad chest. “And there isn’t shit I can do about it.”

It pained Suga to see Daichi like this, so much unlike himself. His handsome features were scrunched and his gorgeous jaw was locked tight, as though he were grinding his teeth. With that sort of posture, he was bound to give himself a headache in a matter of minutes. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” Suga offered as he crossed the small kitchen. He enclosed his arms around Daichi, giving him a tight hug. Thankfully, he seemed rather receptive to the physical touch, body giving way, and relaxing a little. 

“It’s okay.” His breath was warm and welcome to the top of his gray hairline. “Just, it's the same thing with him, always.”

“Is it okay to ask what happened?” The last of the daylight had faded away, the kitchen only illuminated by the single-bulb fixture hanging above the stainless steel sink. From across the apartment, Tobio's and Tooru's laughter resonated. 

Much to his delight, the young dad nuzzled in closer, rubbing his cheek against the top of his scalp. Finally, Daichi’s body uncurled completely, returning the hug. “My dad is coming for Christmas,” he announced with next to no enthusiasm, voice flat and apathetic.

“And I take it this isn’t a good thing.”

Broad shoulders shrugged. “Not particularly. I love him, I do. He’s just… a lot to deal with. And I don’t want you to have to put up with his shit.”

“What’s wrong with your dad?” And for good measure, he added, “and I can take him, no worries.”

Daichi scoffed at the question as it was asked, but thankfully, seemed to lighten a little at Suga’s declaration. “Other than the fact he’s the exact opposite of my mom? He’s just an asshole, for one. And a homophobe, for two.”

Suga winced at that revelation. Yep, this song sounded way too familiar. “I felt that.”

The brunette pulled away ever so slightly, using the small distance as a means to make eye contact. This removed the blonde from his favorite spot in the whole world, which entailed being situated between two very impressive pecks. “You have a shitty dad, too?”

“Oh, the shittiest.” 

“Maybe we should put Reo Sawamura and...?”

“Fuji Sugawara,” Suga filled in the gap.

“And Fuji Sugawara in the same room and see who can out shit the other.”

Suga did nothing to contain his bemused snort. “Oh, that sounds dreadful.”

That adorable, quiet smirk pulled at Daichi’s lips. It was good to see him smile a little bit, even in the face of such a horrible ordeal. “It sounds like the absolute worst.”

“Daddy!” came the familiar call from the living room. “Tooru said he made a pumpkin pie and snuck it into the fridge when they arrived. Can I have a piece?!”

The pair looked at each other and laughed. “I’ll get it, don’t worry,” he assured with a peck to his boyfriend’s cheek. And as he dug out the pie and began cutting it up, he couldn’t help but to hope that this would soon be his every day, Tobio included. His own dad was an asshole and his mom was basically worthless, but family was what you made it, and damn, was his shaping out to be a good one.

\---------

“Little man is down for the count,” Daichi announced as he entered Suga's bedroom, softly closing the door behind him and turning the lock. Not that he was anticipating anything tonight, but rather safe than sorry. 

“Did he lay down okay?” Suga called, the blonde occupied in the en suite bathroom. His toothbrush was propped in his mouth, his gray hair held back away from his face in a fuzzy, pink kitty-cat headband, complete with a tiny cat face and little triangle ears. 

Outside of his own son, it was the most precious thing Daichi had ever had the good fortune to lay eyes on. 

“Sure did,” he responded, sitting down at the foot of the bed to better watch his partner’s routine. Brush teeth, wash face, moisturize with the special cream Tooru had gifted him - that was the order of events. Daichi had memorized the little pattern from Suga’s frequent sleepovers at his own house. “I put on some Paw Patrol, turned the volume up, gave him his stuffed fish and blanket, and that was that.” 

Daichi and Tobio had gotten ready for bed together, including brushing their teeth and changing into nightclothes, the little boy rocking his festive Thanksgiving pajamas. They were a mailed-in gift from grandma and featured a plump turkey surrounded by pumpkins and fall leaves. The spiral lettering across the top read ‘I Gobbled Until I Wobbled’.

The blonde rinsed his mouth out with the plastic water cup, giving a little ‘ah’ after he spat. "Good, I'm so glad he settled down okay." It might sound stupid to some, but Daichi was soaking up the domesticity of it all. What screamed ‘in it for the long haul’ more than learning your partner’s bedtime habits? Nothing that Daichi could think of.

Well, other than a wedding ring. 

(He chose not to linger on that thought for too long.)

“Oh, me too." He cleared his throat. "And I just wanted to say that you worked really hard today, babe, and everything was delicious," Daichi praised as the blonde emerged from the bathroom, his face freshly washed. He looked too adorable in his tiny black shorts and an oversized t-shirt with a giant cartoon shrimp on the front. A pair of slender thighs peeked out from beneath the hem of the dark fabric, a stark contrast to his porcelain skin. And god damn, was it alluring. But Daichi had decided long ago that whether it was a gunny sack or form-fitting clubwear, he looked like the very epitome of sexy regardless. 

“Thank you,” he replied with a sleepy smile, padding across the hardwood floor, making his way to the bed. Daichi had moved so he was leaning against the headboard, propped up on what was determined to be ‘his’ side, not that he had ever really slept over at Suga’s, apart from the night after Kuroo’s party. But still, it felt nice to mirror how they slept at his home, giving this a bit more familiarity. 

“Do your feet still hurt?” he inquired, holding out his arms to his lover. 

Suga gave a tiny little nod, putting a knee on the mattress. On his hands and knees, he crawled toward Daichi, collapsing into the broad chest with a tiny ‘mph’. In the grand scheme of things, Suga weighed next to nothing and was a welcome comfort pressed up against him. 

“Do you want me to give you another foot massage? I feel like I kind of shorted you earlier.” The tips of his fingers slowly moved up and down the length of his boyfriend’s spine, catching the cotton fabric with each pass. Having Suga this close to him, just like this, was surely a dream come true. Secretly, he longed for a time where this would become an everyday thing, not just once or twice a week. He hoped there would come a time things weren’t separate. Where it wasn’t Suga’s apartment or Daichi’s house, it was _theirs_ , together. 

A wildly sexy purr left the smaller man’s throat then, propping up on his hands to stare down at the brunette, caging him in on the bed, both of Suga’s knees on either side of Daichi’s hips. The light from the nightstand cast an orange glow on the nurse’s face, showcasing his best features. The tungsten rays accentuated the deep blush on his high cheekbones and caused those honey eyes to shimmer, reflecting the want buried there. 

And how Daichi also _wanted_. Longed. Wished. 

“I have something else you can massage,” he said teasingly, leaning down to run the very tip of his nose along the column of Daichi’s neck. Even the small motion made his whole body feel like it was a livewire, the goosebumps igniting across the surface of his skin. Unexpectedly, Suga pushed the collar of Daichi’s t-shirt aside before placing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his neck and shoulder. 

If he had the semblance of thought left, it evaporated when that kiss turned into a ferocious sucking sound, Suga’s intention clearly to cause a bloom of purple and blue to appear in his wake. It was possessive in all the right ways and left no room for questioning intentions - and _fuck_ , was it hot.

On instinct, Daichi’s hands found those slender hips, fingers digging in with a little more force than intended as he latched onto his lover. Heat pooled at the pit of his stomach, the sensation becoming more and more familiar. They hadn’t done anything physically outside of exchanging heavy petting and feverish kisses after Kuroo’s party, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it. In fact, with Suga’s explicit permission, he was using that night with the blonde as fuel for when he was alone, seeking that same high he felt when his boyfriend’s lips were enclosed around his length. 

Long story short - it couldn’t be replicated. There was no replacement in this world for Koushi Sugawara. The blonde had ruined him for solo orgasms, and Daichi couldn’t bring himself to feel upset about it. 

“ _Suga_ ,” he growled as his lover’s hands curled around the back of his neck, blunt nails performing a slow drag across his flesh. And because he was a cunning, sexy minx, Suga knew to lower himself onto Daichi so that the only parts of their body that were intersecting were their pelvises. Feeling that Suga just as excited as him made all the moisture leave his mouth and his head spin. Was this really happening? Would ever stop being a surprise that Suga was just as attracted to him as he was to Suga? 

“What do you want to do tonight?” the nurse asked, voice teetering between captivating and sobering. After learning more about Suga’s past, he was beginning to understand that having these sorts of conversations before sex of any kind was of the utmost importance. He didn’t mind, not one bit. Communication was absolutely essential in a relationship and they were certainly no exception. 

“I want...” he started but stopped, trying to think of the right words. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted. _Could_ he have penetrative sex with Suga tonight? Would he be on top, or on bottom? Honestly, he was okay either way, but was it too soon? They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ to one another yet, and that was going to be a key factor. He didn’t know if he could fully hand over his body to someone who didn’t return his feelings, not without knowing for sure. And while he understood that he could be a bit dense sometimes, he knew well enough that sputtering those words in the heat of a moment was definitely a piss-poor option. The last thing he wanted was for it to seem rushed or disingenuous, as though stated with ulterior motives. 

His boyfriend deserved so much better than that.

Suga sat back on his heels, though still straddling Daichi, knees pushing into the soft duvet on either side of the brunette’s Herculean (Suga’s favorite superlative) thighs. He met his lover’s gaze then, lifting his eyes upward to that attentive expression, his soft brows furrowed ever so slightly. Thoughtful hands came up and traced the planes of Daichi’s face, the brunette sighing into the feather-light ministrations. 

“What do you want, Dai?” Like spun silk, the blonde spoke, tenor voice even but still so encumbered with desire. There was a tangible need present there, harboring his wants, as though he were still a bit too skittish to let them sail out to sea. 

_What do_ I _want?_ Daichi repeated the question in his mind. The answer: so much. All of it. Everything, from now until the end of time. He wanted to set a stage in which they could act out every ambition of their heart, of their flesh, to let two become one in a way that Daichi couldn’t even begin to truly imagine. 

“I--” he began, his breath continuing to get caught in his lungs. He had waited all of his life to get here, for this moment with this man. So why couldn’t he speak?

Being the angel he was, Suga of course had to ask, “Are you nervous?” Clearly, Daichi’s anxiety was palpable. Was his longing also just as noticeable? He hoped so. 

A lush pink lip became trapped between two rows of gorgeously straight teeth as Suga held Daichi’s face hostage in between two soft, supple palms, fixing his umber eyes forward. His boyfriend’s touch was warm, inviting, reassuring. There was perhaps no force on earth that could bring him more peace than a single look from Suga. 

“A little,” he spoke finally, being honest. Of course, he was nervous! His hands snaked up and met Suga’s, fingers curling over his boyfriend’s thinner digits. The anxiety that ran bone-deep would likely never go away, and even so, it would take time. Overthinking was sort of his modus operandi, even if that fact didn’t necessarily make him proud. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Daichi swallowed, never taking his eyes off of Suga. “Of course I do.”

“Do you want to try something?”

Letting his inhibitions and struggling thoughts go, he agreed. “Yes.”

Next thing he knew, Suga’s mouth was pressed against his, just as hot and wet as it had been on his collarbone moments ago. A refreshing surge of mint flooded his senses as that exploring, pink tongue rolled into his mouth, licking up in a way that bordered the obscene. Daichi had to take a sharp inhale through his nose to keep his balance, to stay grounded. Working on their own volition, his hands meandered back to those narrow hips, using the touch as an anchor. Should he let go, he feared that he might float away.

Just then, Suga pulled him forward, grabbing at the hem of his old college football shirt, his chosen ‘pajamas’ for the night. Obediently, he raised his thick arms skyward, letting the soft cotton fabric mess his hair a little as it was pulled off in one lithe movement. 

The way Suga looked at him was as though he was a work of art. However, this didn’t keep him from feeling self-conscious. Hidden beneath his rapidly fading tan were the stretch marks he earned as a child, a tubby and sweet little boy fighting to grow ‘big and strong’, just like his father. Even with his six-pack and defined chest, he would always feel slightly bashful and guarded in the presence of someone so beautiful, so stunningly attractive. It was just his nature.

Honey eyes raked over his body, Suga licking his lips as he reached for his own shirt. Because Daichi’s brain was fogged over by the display before him, he didn’t have the mental capacity to tease Koushi about the cartoonish top nor inquire about its existence. _Later_ , he thought, though he might be a bit too preoccupied in a bit to recall thinking such a thing. 

In their previous exploit, Suga had been focused on Daichi. Making Daichi feel good. Making Daichi feel loved. Clearly, Suga had enjoyed it, but still. Even though he was inexperienced, his fantasy coming to life had spurred on so many thoughts and desires he wanted to bring out from where they had been tucked away in his frontal lobe and turn them into a reality. 

“You can touch me, Daichi,” the pink staining his cheeks had crawled down his neck, littering his gorgeous chest, “if you’d like.”

The hands on Suga’s hips made their voyage upward, taking in every inch of searing flesh. A beautiful hiccup that almost counted as a moan left the blonde’s lips as Daichi’s thumbs gingerly brushed over two pink nipples, blushing and rose-petal soft.

“ _Ah_ ,” he whimpered melodically, eyes snapping shut and head tilting back as Daichi pressed in harder, working in tandem on both buds. They were blooming, hardening beneath his caresses. Suga had his fingers dug into the sheets behind him, curling them tightly into the duvet as his back arched in a primal response.

Whether it was accidental or intentional, Suga bucked his hips, pushing their clothed members together. This contact made Daichi groan, an expletive leaving his lungs in a breathless rush. 

“Do you like that?” It wasn’t meant to be a provocation, more of a confirmation that what he was doing was indeed okay, but with the way Suga huffed out a quiet ‘ _fuck yes_ ’, Daichi resumed his enticing movements, enthralled by the blonde’s reaction.

“What else do you like?” he whispered against the tender flesh just below Suga’s ear, planting soft, teasing kisses along his jawline, never removing his hands from their duty.

“Your-- ah,” the sound of Suga hissing in pleasure was sure to be the death of him, “--mouth, baby.”

///

The wet heat of Daichi’s tongue was overwhelming in all the best ways, sending his head reeling and forcing his eyes to close, to savor each little sensation. And as the brunette migrated south, leaving a trail of kisses from his neck to one of his nipples, it was as though his soul left his body, his soft cotton shorts doing little to hide his excitement. 

It had been years since someone touched him like this, his boyfriend’s mouth enclosing around one of the hardened buds. Suga hadn’t heard himself moan in such a way in a very long time. Instinctively, his hands shot up to the back of Daichi’s neck, one on the nape, the other carding through that soft, dark hair along his scalp. This beautiful man, this creature who was so nervous and demure by day was slowly transforming, blossoming, opening up for Suga and it was so lovely. This connection that he craved wasn’t just about pleasure, or simply feeling good. It was about trust, about allowing someone into such a private space, to believe that their touch was there to build up, not to destroy. 

And how Daichi was building him, putting him back together piece by piece. 

His lover removed his mouth from the left nipple only to move onto the right. In an act that surprised him, Daichi bit down on the tender skin, nibbling just hard enough to incite a shuddering gasp from the blonde.

“Shit, are you okay?” Daichi inquired, pulling away enough to get a close look at his lover’s face. Concern was posed in those deep brown eyes, but his lust-blown pupils were thankfully still very much present. Suga could only imagine that he was mirroring that look himself. Fire occupied his spine, sinking to his stomach, making it feel like kerosene was alive and burning through his veins pumping frantically through his tender heart. 

“It felt great,” he admitted a bit breathlessly, too turned on to feel ashamed by how winded he was already. Who was the inexperienced one here? Suga felt like this was truly his first time all over again. Daichi had that effect. 

“Do you want me to do it again?” He pulled Suga tighter into him, big hands splayed across the width of his lower back. The look Daichi was giving him from out under those black, thick lashes was too enticing, too alluring. A single flutter of them, and surely, the DCFO could have whatever he wanted and more. 

Suga could barely manage to nod his head before Daichi’s mouth returned, more intense this time. He paired the motion with a slow roll of his hips, pushing their crotches together once more. In an attempt to stifle his own ravished noises, a hand flew up to cover his mouth. He was trying to be mindful of his own volume because even though Daichi had reported leaving the sound turned up on the television, he still was a bit self-conscious that they might be overheard. 

“ _Koushi,_ ” Daichi whispered against his sternum, using his nose once more in a slow drag, leaving a path of brilliant fervor in his wake. 

With zero regards for the desperate quality of his voice, he choked out a demand, a plea: “kiss me.”

And Daichi obeyed, mouths pressed together as if it were the last thing they might ever do. There was yet another upward thrust of hips, swallowing each other’s pleasured sounds, lost on where one ended and the other began. 

Suga could taste the salt from his own skin on Daichi’s tongue, feel the passion and ferocity in Daichi’s every grasp, every touch. Now, it was his turn. In his heart, he knew that they weren’t ready to go all the way, at least not yet. There were three words separating them from that step, and Suga wasn’t going to say them so impetuously or without real thought. He hadn’t the faintest clue of when they might be uttered to one another, or if he was going to be the one to say them first, but it needed to be meaningful. The last thing he wanted was for it to feel as though it were something he was simply tossing out there in an attempt to rush to sex. 

The truth was, he didn’t want Daichi to fuck him. Not like the wild and animalistic and no-strings-attached sex he had chased after in his youth. No, he wanted Daichi to make love to him, hold him, treat him like some sort of prized jewel. That’s exactly how Daichi saw him, made him feel every time they were together. More than anything, he wanted to share his body with someone he truly loved, respected, and valued, and with that person feeling the exact same way about him. 

“Can I--” Suga’s words stuttered as Daichi’s mouth found his chest once more, “take these off?” Of course, he was referring to the very cute polka-dot sleep pants his boyfriend was wearing. 

Daichi pulled off him, regarding the blonde with wide eyes. He didn’t look panicked, though. More like amazed, awed, and definitely just a wee bit overly-excited. Suga couldn’t fault him, not while he was in the exact same condition. 

“Fuck yes!” He shot up so quickly that he nearly bucked Suga off of the bed, causing the blonde to fall on his hand to his side, a bubbly giggle leaving his throat. 

“Someone is eager!” he teased, wiggling those gray eyebrows. A deep blush rushed beneath Daichi’s beautifully tanned skin, the early days of a midwestern autumn doing little to fade his sun-kissed glow. 

“I’m sorry, shit, I almost knocked you off the bed!” 

Before he could admonish himself, Suga quickly intervened, sliding off his own sleepweart to reveal the fact that he was wearing _absolutely nothing_ beneath his cotton shorts (about twenty minutes ago, it seemed pointless to put on underwear. Turns out, he had been correct.). Despite Daichi having seen him fully nude at least twice already, it still caused the butterflies to take flight inside his ribcage, fluttering about on razor-tipped wings. There always lingered that nagging thought that this amazing, kind-hearted man could slip away, fall through his fingers like fine sand. That Suga could leave this situation heartbroken, just like he had all the other times before. 

However, that voice quieted, silenced by the next sentence from Daichi’s mouth. “You are so beautiful, Koushi.” And a gentle hand came forth to brush the fringe of bangs that had been obstructing his field of vision, a calloused thumb lingering over the beauty mark at the corner of his eye.

_He thinks I’m beautiful._

It was hardly his first time hearing it from Daichi, but there was something different about the words now. Perhaps, if tone could be properly translated, it was just another way of saying ‘I love you’. 

“So are you.”

The brunette chuckled at that, a handsome smile slipping across his face. There was such a duality to this man. At one moment, he could be rugged and brawny, but the next, so boyish and innocent. It was fiercely endearing.

Suga leaned over and kissed the laughter off of his lips, the amusement somehow making him taste all the sweeter. Hyper-aware of his own nakedness, he reached his free hand down to the waistband of the brunette’s cotton sleep pants, curling his fingers over the elastic.

Daichi seemed to catch on, despite his mouth being extremely preoccupied, and leaned back against the headboard, drawing Suga in with him. Teamwork made the dream work and in a matter of moments, the soft fabric was sliding down thick thighs and breaching his feet, his American Eagle boxer briefs going with them. 

Seeing Daichi naked was truly a blessing. And if Suga was religious, he would pray and thank whatever deity was listening for such an opportunity.

Thankfully, though, he didn’t need to be a believer to get on his knees. 

“Can I try what I wanted now?” Suga asked, doing his best to get them back on track. He was tired of just staring at each other - he was a man of action. 

Daichi nodded vigorously, watching with bright eyes as Suga reached over into the nightstand. There was a little drawer that he kept a few supplies in, mostly lube, and possibly a vibrator that he was definitely _not_ going to address tonight. Once he had his hand on the plastic bottle, he resumed his position of straddling Daichi, this time, purposefully pushing their exposed lengths together, the brunette every bit as hard as him.

A heavy ‘thunk’ resounded as Daichi arched his back, his skull hitting the tall headboard behind him. Crescent moon shapes formed on the porcelain skin of Suga’s own thighs where Daichi’s nails had earnestly dug into his flesh. It didn’t hurt. In fact, all it did was encourage his next moves.

He opened the lube, the sound of the cap clicking was like music to his ears. With careful consideration, he flitted his gaze downward. It was a relief to see that Daichi was in a similar state of disrepair, his broad chest flushed and heaving a bit. It wasn’t from exertion, not really, so it had to be from a culmination of nerves and excitement. 

“Don’t worry,” Suga assured, reaching out with his free hand to cup Daichi’s cheek. The taller man leaned into the touch, letting his eyes slip close for just a moment. “We’re not going to do… _that_.” Under that promise, Daichi’s body relaxed a little, some of the tension leaving his thick shoulders. “I just... want to try something.” To emphasize this point, he slowly bumped his length into his boyfriend’s once more, the shafts rubbing together in a way that sent a shiver masquerading down his spine. 

The brunette nodded, catching on with what was happening. Suga released his hold on his lover’s face, freeing up his right hand. With a bit of finesse, he squeezed some of the lubricant into his palm, working it around a little in an attempt to warm up the substance. The last thing Suga wanted was for this to feel clinical and cold.

“Your bottle is almost empty,” Daichi observed. The smugness present in his voice forced Suga to level him with a half-hearted glare, the look lacking any sort of real heat. 

“Yeah, well, when your boyfriend is this fucking hot, sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.” He paused and winked before adding, “literally.”

“You touch yourself and think of me?” Why did he sound so amazed? 

“What do you think?” he replied coolly as his hand enclosed around both of their lengths. With one fluid motion and a little flick of his wrist, another strangled curse word poured from Daichi, riding on the wave of a moan. Suga did little to govern the coy, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Now tell me, baby,” his voice came out in a lower register, smooth and syrupy, “do you touch yourself and think of me, too?”

A strangled noise rose out of the brunette’s throat as the back of his head connected to the headboard once again. _Poor guy_ . Though Suga didn’t actually feel _that_ bad. He was a nurse after all. Should his boyfriend become mildly concussed, Suga knew exactly how to treat him. 

“ _Of course,_ ” he admitted shamelessly, dark eyes falling partially hooded as he stared down at the show. Suga was keeping a languid pace and a loose grip because just holding them together felt intoxicating. Should he speed up, this whole ordeal would be over in a matter of minutes and that was so not his plan. 

“Show me how,” the blonde goaded, pleaded. His insides were already turning to mush at this much stimulation, but he was greedy and longed for more. More of Daichi, all of him. 

“How?” 

“Yeah,” he encouraged, “show me how you do it when you think of me.”

One hand left Suga’s thigh to join where the blonde already had them wrapped up. Daichi’s hands were so much bigger, palms wider, fingers rougher and thicker. He lost himself for a moment in the thought of those thick digits prepping and scissoring him, but should he linger on that fantasy too long, he would release right then and there. 

The addition of Daichi’s hand proved to be both a good idea and a bad idea. Good, because it felt fucking amazing, and the breathless little pants, the deliciously whispered ‘ _Koushi_ ’ was incredibly sexy. Also bad, because once again, he found himself close to cumming just from a few slow pumps. 

“Fucking Christ, this feels amazing.” It was amusing and sexy, all at the same time, the way Daichi’s mouth got filthier while they were fooling around. Normally, he was a very reserved man, mild-mannered, always holding himself together. Not only did he have an important job, he was also, above all else, just a dad trying to be a good role model for his son. At his core, Daichi was a perfectionist, expecting nothing but the best from himself. In Suga’s honest opinion, his boyfriend held himself to too high of a standard, constantly working harder to be better, do better, surpass his own astronomical expectations. But to Koushi, there was no one better and never would be.

The core of his abdomen was burning, the familiar sensation closing in on him. If the perspiration on Daichi’s forehead and the sharp clench of his defined stomach was anything to go by, so was he. 

“Come here,” the brunette instructed, placing his free hand on the back of Suga’s neck, pulling him down so their foreheads rested together. 

This was the closeness Suga had been looking for all these years, this easy intimacy that came with trusting someone, opening yourself up to share a bonding experience rather than just the lust-driven pounding of flesh. That was fine and well and it had served a purpose for him once. But this? This was truly something special.

“You’re perfect, Koushi,” Daichi confessed, their breath intertwining, lips only mere centimeters apart, hand moving faster, gripping tighter. Suga matched the pace, ready for them to climax together.

Honey orbs snapped forward, catching dark umber in an impassioned stare, looking out from under heavy pewter lashes. It was upon that connection that Suga fell over the edge, spilling into their conjoined hands. It took but a moment for Daichi to follow suit, his tree-trunk legs tensing beneath Suga’s bare ass. He was so sensitive, each touch threatening to knock him out cold, but still, he continued to pump, milking every last drop until Daichi’s hand stopped. 

There wasn’t a moment to relax, let themselves play catch up. Daichi was sure of that, strong arms pulling him down into a crashing kiss, all heat and tongue, neither paying any mind to the mess on their hands or stomachs. It didn’t matter. What mattered was this closeness, this intimacy, this resonating, unsurpassable feeling. Two hearts hammered, beating a drum to a rhythm only they could hear.

“Koushi,” the brunette whispered as they parted from their kiss, voice soft and ardent, like an incantation. It was spoken almost senselessly, as though he couldn’t formulate any other word, the blonde’s name occupying his every thought, consuming his whole state of being. The petite nurse tucked his head beneath that strong, square jaw, arms curled up and trapped between his chest and Daichi’s. Suga closed his eyes and hummed, simply basking in the familiarity, the beauty of being together like this, acting on feelings long bottled. 

And how he prayed that there would be many more nights like this to come. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, y'all's love is just TOO overwhelming sometimes and you really know how to see a gal through her week. Bless you, for that, seriously. Each and every comment, kudos, bookmark means the absolute WORLD to me!!
> 
> Also, I broke down and made a Twitter - @photogiraffe77 -if anyone wants to say hello! I had one when I was 14 so I could follow all the guys in bands like 'Forever the Sickest Kids' (laughs in emo hair). Guys, I'm almost 28 now. I had a Twitter half a lifetime ago. Please go easy on me but do say hello!! So far, I just have been RTing fan art like it's my freaking job. 
> 
> And lastly, I have two new pieces out. The first is a KuroDai that deals with an established relationship and body image issues. It is a deeply personal story and it's a four-part piece. The first chapter is up and it would mean SO much if you headed over there and checked it out. The second is a super fluffy one-shot featuring a KuroYaku I wrote with my friend adka2333. It is just sweet and very wholesome.If either of those sounds like they float your boat, please don't hesitate!
> 
> I'm gonna update Sweet Arrangement (my BokuAka sugar daddy AU) and then probably my KuroDai before I update here again, so it should be about 10-14 days. Sending you lots of love!! I am still so blown away!
> 
> _Next time: "Issei, can you help?"_


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